Make a Wish
by LadyJade4d
Summary: After a few personal & professional detours, Stephanie's finally on the road to her very own HEA. She's the proprietor of w*ish lingerie & has a life rife with love, laughs & daily wonders until someone with whom she shares a tumultuous past comes barreling back into her life, exposing repressed emotions & a threat to Stephanie & her loved ones. Includes AU-ish canon & a Babe HEA.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

First off, I just wanted to let you know that I haven't forgotten that I need to add an epilogue to 'Grace Under Pressure' to tie things up nicely and illustrate what that version of Steph and Ranger's HEA looks like, but while I'm deciding when to have that take place and what to include in it, I've decided to start another story. Also, I re-read parts of 'Grace Under Pressure' recently and whoa baby, it is alarmingly rife with typos (I blame my over-eagerness at posting which somehow hindered my proof reading ability). I'm going to try leaving a little time between finishing writing a chapter and editing/posting it, which should hopefully help with errors this time around.

I'm really excited about this new story, I've been super intense about setting up the timeline/outline and I think I've done a better job weaving the mystery and personal parts together so that the entire story is suspenseful/interesting and provides character growth/journeys throughout. I've also decided to try using flashbacks to tell the story in a (hopefully) riveting manner. The story has six parts and will be about 46-48 chapters including the epilogue. The first part will be nine chapters long and provide necessary background and letting you know who the characters are, what's going on in their lives and how they ended up where they are.

Also, this story is canon at its core, however only events from Books 1-6 (albeit an AU-ish version) are included. There are several significant changes that you'll be filled in on as the story progresses. I don't want to ruin how things are revealed organically throughout the story, but I hope it isn't confusing for those of you reading who are expecting or assuming more canon allegiance.

I'll do my best to update at least once a week and I appreciate any feedback/constructive criticism/comments that you may have.

I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 **Part I. "A man, when he WISHes, is the master of his fate." - Jose Ferrer**

 **Chapter 1**

 **SP POV - 03 APR 2015**

I walked up the sloped brick steps into Mompou, a posh Newark tapas and wine bar bragging a delicious ropa vieja panini and a coveted Zagat rating. I was welcomed to the restaurant with a burst of air conditioning as I let my eyes adjust to the dim lighting of the earth toned room. The staccato of my good luck Jimmy Choos, which transformed my average 5'7" frame to a formidable 5'11" courtesy of Alexander Ramos, against the hardwood floor was muffled by the boisterous lunch crowd as I navigated my way towards the back corner of the room where my lunch date was seated against the exposed brick wall at one of the circular, wooden tables. She looked equal parts anxious and excited, alternating between fidgeting with the neckline of her green sheath dress and tucking her expertly tousled blonde hair behind her ear.

"Hi, I'm Stephanie Plum," I stated, holding out my hand for her to take as both I and my straightened, slick (and hopefully sophisticated) ponytail of chestnut hair came to a standstill.

"I know, you're Miss Plum!" she exclaimed excitedly, shaking my hand, her brass bracelets clinking lightly. "It's so great to finally meet you. I'm Natalie Drew."

"Stephanie or Steph, please. And it's nice to meet you as well," I replied with a wide smile, taking the seat across from Natalie.

"So, Stephanie, I just want you to know I am a huge fan of your work. Your designs run the gambit from girl-next-door to risqué and I'm just so very excited that I was the staff member chosen for your interview."

"Thank you! I was just crazy excited when my assistant got the phone call to set this up. Who would have thought that the mavens in charge of Vogue Magazine would want to interview _me_!"

"Well, w*ish lingerie is one of the new must-have items for the quintessential modern woman and we at Vogue are just fulfilling our civic duty to let fashionable women everywhere know!" she replied with a laugh and infectious smile. "So, the way this works is there will be an article in next month's magazine highlighting you and your brand which will be accompanied by photographs of sample items your PR and Marketing firm have already provided to us."

"Okay, sounds great! So, questions?" I asked just as our waitress arrived to take our orders.

"So, where were we?" I asked after we'd both placed orders for salads. I'd opted for a salad I'd begrudgingly admit sounded rather delicious for fear I'd stain my designer apparel. Natalie, however, didn't look like the klutzy type. She was probably more the annoyingly health conscious type. Well, maybe we could still be friends as I am a strong advocate of overly ambitious optimism. Hell, it's part of the reason I was currently being interviewed for designing luxury lingerie.

"I was just about to ask you about your buy one send one campaign. It's a wonderful philanthropic initiative that's really increased w*ish brand popularity. Where did that idea stem from?" Natalie asked after setting up a tape recorder and retrieving a small notepad and pen from her purse.

"It's something I've been wanting to do since I first had the idea for w*ish. Initially, I didn't have the resources or capital to do it, so it was sort of like a one year anniversary of the boutique and brand gift to myself," I explained animatedly. "The way it works is for every item in certain lines that is purchased, we send another of that item to support the troops abroad. It's worked out really well so far. We've received some thank you cards and they've just been incredibly touching."

"That's great! How did you come up with that idea?" Natalie asked, gesturing for me to go on with my explanation.

"Well, I was raised in a staunchly Catholic household, with helping other and being charitable being constantly preached yet rarely put into action. And I guess as a child I just never understood why my mother and the parents in the community in which I grew up were more interested in having everyone fit their socially acceptable roles and ostracizing those who displayed individuality to actually follow any of the lessons they were claiming to hold in such high esteem. I just really wanted to find a way to help and I know in the scheme of things this is small, but it's something, a starting point at least," I explained.

"It's really not nothing. It's one of the reasons we're doing a multi-page feature on you and w*ish lingerie. Well, that and the fact that the designs are fabulous!"

"Thanks, I really appreciate hearing that. I'm hoping as profits increase, especially in this next year, I'll be able to extend the program to providing items to women in domestic violence and homeless shelters."

"Wow, I wish you all the best with that!"

"Thanks!"

"So, can you tell me a little about the various design lines available at w*ish?"

"Absolutely. So the first line was coquette*ish, I actually considered naming the boutique and brand coquette but then decided on w*ish and adding '*ish' to the end of all of the line names."

"Good call, it's very catchy."

"Thanks! Anyways, I started with coquette*ish in February of last year when w*ish first opened which is flirty yet sexy. Then we introduced support*ish which is casual and comfortable and sport*ish, the new iterations of which is available now," I explained as the waitress brought our salads. "After that was glam*ish which was the collection I designed specifically for Lingerie Fashion Week last October."

"Yes, I remember. It is an exceptional set of designs, very sexy and bold. I heard that you're not planning on keeping that particular collection around?" Natalie asked with the skill of a seasoned reporter.

"That's true. I decided to keep the Fashion Week collections available for one year only."

"Hmm, interesting. Well, I'm definitely going to have to make a few purchases since glam*ish is a limited time collection! Have you started designing a new line for this year's Lingerie Fashion Week?"

"I have actually," I gushed, my calm business facade giving way to the excitement I felt. "It's going to be called nymph*ish and will be a bit more risqué with a definite boudoir feel."

"Wow, I can't wait! So, what are the other lines that are currently available?"

"Well, there's the slim*ish line which is the w*ish version of shape-wear, va-va-voom*ish which is extra padded and beach*ish which is our swim-wear collection," I elaborated.

"That is impressive, and I love the names! I believe I heard chatter about a new collection you're introducing in May, something about designs catered to nursing mothers?"

"Thank you and you're correct. The mommy*ish line will be available at the beginning of May."

"Just in time for Mother's Day I see!"

"Mhmm!" I added with a light laugh.

"So, when did you feel like you'd finally made it? That you and w*ish were definitely on the road to success?"

"Wow, I just, it's incredible and humbling to think that something I've spent years silently working towards is being dubbed a success by a Vogue journalist. It really just blows my mind and makes me want to break out into my happy dance!" I replied.

"Well, don't let me stop you!" Natalie countered with a smile to match mine.

"Maybe later, I wouldn't want Vogue readers to know how impressively spastic I can be!"

"No, we wouldn't want that," Natalie agreed with feigned somber.

"Anyways, I suppose I knew that w*ish would thrive when a few women from NYC had somehow stopped by the w*ish boutique here in Newark. When I asked them if I could help them with anything they told me that they heard about me and w*ish because of the Lingerie Fashion Week I attended and just _had_ to make the trip."

"That is quite the compliment. Natives don't like to leave Manhattan for just anything!" Natalie joked.

"Exactly! I mean, my Grandmother, friends and local clients saying they love w*ish items is one thing, but commuting because they _needed_ my designs, wow! And they also told me they were eagerly anticipating when I would open an additional location in NYC," I added.

"And? Is there any plan for that in the future?" Natalie prodded.

"Well…" I replied with a sly smile.

"Dish Plum!"

"Actually, there are currently plans in place to open several w*ish boutiques in America. We're thinking of opening around four stores in June and then another wave of stores in America around February of 2016. After that, I'm hoping to take w*ish international! We've had a very generous outpouring of support and interest in additional boutiques and I just can't wait for this next phase!"

"Wow, that is definitely something to look forward to!"

"I hope so," I replied earnestly.

"Now, onto the hard questions!" Natalie said with a playful glint in her eye.

"Oh no! I thought that was what we were doing!" I joked.

"That was just to lull you into giving me some scoop. What I really want to know about is where your inspiration for w*ish came from? You were a business major turned second tier lingerie buyer turned office manager for a security company. How did you dream up w*ish? And what motivated you to make your dream a reality?" Natalie queried.

* * *

 **SP POV - 12 OCT 2013**

Happy birthday to me, I thought as I ate another heaping bite of yellow, store-bought birthday cake covered with sugary goodness in the form of pink buttercream frosting roses. Ugh, roses, the flowers of looove. Love shmove. Love is for suckers. A designation that, as of five short days ago no longer applied to me.

Yup, five days ago I was edified in the most shocking of ways. Apparently the relationship I was fully committed to, the relationship that I thought was built on a foundation of mutual trust, respect and friendship that we'd been fostering for the past 18 months, not to mention an abundance (over-abundance, if we're being honest, and it seems like the time for some brutal honestly) of physical attraction was caput.

How did I even end up here? Again? It's like every time I think I have a handle on life, something knocks me on my ass. At least it wasn't catching someone who claimed to love me and made vows to me in front of friends, family and God banging Joyce Barnhart, grade-school bully turned home-wrecker extraordinaire, on my dining room table.

See this here, me sitting alone staring out at the sunset on the private beach attached to a romantic beach rental that I'm now enjoying solo is the problem with interlacing your happiness with someone else's. It's an epiphany I stumbled upon sometime last night between crying my way through an entire box of Kleenex and an ice-cream sundae impressive enough to send me into a sugar coma. I need to be more reserved with giving out love, because when it isn't reciprocated in the manner I expect or it's snatched away without any warning, the fallout is devastating. I'm shattered and this is the last time I cobble the pieces back together because I refuse to do it anymore. I refuse to allow someone that kind of power over me or to live in that state of vulnerability ever again.

I totally get the whole lone wolf, being your own island thing now and I want that. Not to the extreme where you shut out all other people, but in whatever way that lets me maintain sole sovereignty over my happiness. Happiness, another elusive aspiration, much like true love or happily ever after or losing that last five pounds. Screw men, because well, they are the _worst_! From now on, I'm going to make my own happily ever after! Ha!

Although that's where my plan has started to falter. What would make me happy? What would make me, a notoriously non-morning person, excited to get up in the morning and greet the day? What is something I could do for me?

The only thing that I really enjoy in my current life, aside from spending time with friends and the one family member who accepts and appreciates my individuality, is the time I spend doodling designs to relax after a stressful day or when inspiration strikes (which happens with embarrassing regularity when I'm forced to frequent the gym and am surrounded by sweaty, manly-men working out their aggression).

The lingerie designs had been my plan since I'd started Design School to celebrate my freedom from The Dick, my ex-husband, but I never really fleshed out the part of the plan where I take my designs and transform them into a reality. Maybe this is the universe's way of letting me know I need to start actively pursuing _my_ someday, turning my dream into a wish and my wish into w*ish.

I could do this right? Stephanie Plum, high-end lingerie designer and boutique proprietor. It has a nice ring to it, although I'm not sure it will all fit on a tiny business card.

Grandma Mazur is going to be thrilled.

And demand to test my products.

* * *

 **SP POV - 03 APR 2015**

"Oh my gosh, what happened next?" Natalie demanded.

"Well, it was one thing when Grandma Mazur dubbed herself the official w*ish product tester, it was another when she and her friends from the Clip 'n Curl made bejeweled tube tops with 'w*ish tester' emblazoned on them and proceeded to go on a cross-country senior bus trip. Apparently it led to some very blue conversations with geriatric men across the nation!"

"Wow, just wow! I totally want to steal your granny. She's amazing!" Natalie gushed.

"Yeah, she is a force of nature. Definitely a huge factor in my being able to turn w*ish from a few binders full of sketches to a successful boutique and being interviewed by you for Vogue," I replied sincerely.

"Thank you for your time and especially your candor in answering all of my questions. I especially loved hearing about you're Grandmother's contributions to your new career!" Natalie said after a handful of additional questions about w*ish and me.

"Anytime," I replied as we both got up from our seats at the artfully worn wooden table. "I brought you a little something as a thank you for taking the time to come out here for the interview and for Vogue's interest in the first place." I handed her a plum gift bag with 'w*ish' scrolled on it in matte gold lettering that matched the tissue paper peeking out of the top of the bag.

"Oh wow! Thank you so much, my boyfriend is going to be thrilled! And I'll send you a copy of next month's Vogue so you have a preview of the article."

"Can't wait!" I replied, excited for my Vogue debut.

"It been great getting you know you Steph, I wish you and w*ish all the best!" Natalie added with a quick hug before we parted ways outside of Mompou and headed off into the sunny Newark afternoon.

* * *

 **SP POV - 03 APR 2015**

Crappity crap crap! I was running late to our monthly Girls' Night and, sadly, no amount of speeding would remedy the situation. And after I made a monumental deal about some of my friends running late the last couple of times, they're definitely going to lord this over me. I know it's not a legit thing to get worked up about and I fully blame PMS and lack of readily available Butterscotch Krimpets (apparently I'd depleted my secret stash earlier in the month while dealing with manufacturing issues).

After a few minor traffic violations, I pulled my silver-blue Mazda CX-5 into the first parking spot available and dashed into The Black Olive, a Greek restaurant boasting a vibrant atmosphere and the most potent ouzo in New Jersey. I walked under the portico supported by white, circular columns that were also dispersed throughout the restaurant's interior and asked the bubbly hostess to show me to my party, all of whom had already arrived, she eagerly informed me. I walked up to a circular wooden table situated towards the center of the dining area surrounded by my friends clearly enjoying their evening and the hummus appetizer.

"Well, well, well. Look at who _finally_ deigned to grace us with her fabulousness!" my oldest friend, Mary Lou Stankovic, welcomed me while highlighting my late arrival to everyone. Mary Lou and I had suffered through Mrs. Sarkozy's menopausal diatribes during Kindergarten, bullying that would anger even the mildest of feminists courtesy of Trenton town slut and serial trophy wife, Joyce Barnhart and our unrequited, unabashed admiration for Mr. Conti, our 11th Grade World History teacher who resembled a Ken doll (although we very much hoped he wasn't rocking a smooth down-there area because that would absolutely ruin his epic hotness). Mary Lou waved me over to the seat next to her while she relocated a chunk of her wavy, light brown hair, styled in the stereotypical mom bob (something she had acquired to celebrate the birth of the first of her three children), behind her ear.

"Hey ladies, sorry for running late" I replied while slipping into the blue-cushioned seat between Mary Lou and Calista Cooper, my roommate from Rutgers. Calista, whom I'd loving nicknamed Coop upon meeting her while moving into our all-girl dormitory (or 'The Virgin Vault', as it was more commonly known), was a curvy, 5'4", feisty firecracker with a severely limited bullshit tolerance and a delightfully snarky sense of humor. She's managed to funnel all of her type-A crazy into her position as one of the top assistant DAs in Trenton.

"Mhmm girl, we know how it is, the fancy, jet-setting fashion designer forgetting all about us little people and keeping us waiting," Lula Johnson added jocularly while she popped piece of pita bread slathered in hummus into her fuchsia tinted mouth that perfectly complemented the cacophony of color that was Lula's fashion statement for the evening. She was swathed in a forest green and sunset orange spandex halter top, mini-dress that showcased her impressive milk-chocolate hued voluptuousness and matched her orange-streaked hair and larger-than-life personality. "Although, since my Tankie just can't get enough of all them sample curve*ish sets you had me test for you, I guess I can overlook some occasional lateness, just don't make it a habit!"

"And here I thought you'd cut Steph some slack because you missed spending time with her like we used to when she was working as the RangeMan office manager and would stop by a few times a week for donuts and Cluck-in-the-Bucket!" Connie Rosolli interjected. Connie was like a real-life Betty Boop. She was curvaceous with shoulder-length black hair constantly teased to within an inch of it's life and loved red in its many forms: ruby lipstick, scarlet nail polish, crimson clothes (and one awkward week where she couldn't be talked out of lava-hued mascara). Connie was a few years older than me and was the receptionist at my smarmy, pervert cousin Vinnie's bail bonds office where I'd secured Lula a filing job using my surprisingly impressive blackmailing prowess.

"Nah girl, I'm _only_ willing to be more accommodating because of what curve*ish inspires Tankie to do!" Lula guffawed with a pointed eyebrow-waggle.

"Ugh, I'm so jealous of you and Coop, having such manly men. I swear, Duncan is going for the slowest of all slow burns," groused Victoria Slade, the third and final component of my college coterie. Victoria was a leggy waif with a platinum blonde graduated chin-length bob who mirrored Lula's love of bold colors, though she managed to limit it to her choice of lipsticks, accessories and shoes.

"Is Duncan that tall brunette with the sexy nerd glasses? The guy who came to pick your drunk booty up from our last Girls' Night?" Lula queried in her patented candid manner.

"Yup, that was Duncan," Victoria confirmed.

"Don't you mean Dashing Duncan?!" I teased. Coop and I had been taunting Victoria about Duncan Prince, corporate attorney extraordinaire, since she met him shortly after joining the family business post graduation. Now, at 29, she was the CEO of Slade Suites, a luxury hotel chain located in the North-East. W*ish joined Duncan's illustrious client list towards the end of 2013 and I'd gotten the chance to finally get acquainted with _the_ Mr. Prince Victoria spoke so highly and dreamily of.

"Apparently Demure Duncan is more apropos, right Vic?" Calista corrected. "When are you crazy kids finally going to get past the oh so riveting will-they-won't-they drama and move on to the nauseating happily ever after bit?"

"That's just the nature of office romances, it's par for the course," the newest addition to our Girls' Nights, Camilla added with a sympathetic look in her caramel colored eyes.

"Well, if anyone would know, it would be you, Cam!" I quipped. "Speaking of which, how _is_ Tuck doing?"

Tucker 'Tuck' Kruger was Camilla's business partner and co-owner of Mod Management. He was lean with a dirty blonde faux-hawk, an affinity for jelly beans, a crooked smirk he reserved strictly for Camilla and a long-standing crush which Camilla not-so-secretly reciprocated.

"He's great, whatever, shut-up. You can ask him how he is yourself at our meeting tomorrow morning when he goes over the new marketing materials for w*ish," Camilla huffed, tossing me a mock-glare and flipping her thick blackish-brown hair woven through with chocolate highlights back over her shoulder, a gesture that punctuated our first encounter and the multitude that have followed.

* * *

 **SP POV - 18 SEP 2014**

I was trying to stifle yet another yawn while replenishing the supply of the ever popular selection of coquette*ish satin and delicate lace panties that I'd had manufactured in a variety of rich, gemstone colors when I noticed a customer leisurely perusing my designs and occasionally adding an item to her purple with gold stars w*ish mesh shopping basket. She was interrupted from her stroll through the exotic bouquet of lingerie that I was still amazed came from my very own imagination by a phone call. Instead of answering her phone, however, she glared at it and muttered "Ugh, I am sooo done with you asshats, you're on your own now!". She soldiered forward on her quest to examine all w*ish had to offer after tossing her thick bistre hair sprinkled with shimmering copper over her shoulder.

I meandered over to the display of balconette bras she was admiring to get to know someone who would hopefully become a returning client. "Hi, I'm Stephanie, is there anything I can help you with today?"

She jerked slightly, startled at having been approached and likely distracted by whomever had called. "Hey, I'm Camilla, and I'm actually just looking around today, a little window shopping therapy. I can't believe I've never heard of w*ish before. You guys have some really daring designs!" she exclaimed, carefully setting down the bra she'd been assessing.

"Well, we're a new company, only a little over seven months old, so we're still trying to get our name and, in my very humble opinion, superior products out to the public," I explained.

"Mhmm, PR and marketing, an often under-valued part of any business venture," Camilla hummed almost absentmindedly.

"So, how did you end up in our little valhalla of lingerie?"

"Well, I needed to let my equal parts crappy and fantastic day at work sink in and I figured what better way than to amble through the boutiques in downtown Newark!"

"I'm glad you stumbled upon w*ish, we really love foot traffic," I added with a smile before asking her to clarify her statement. "So was your day simultaneously crappy and fantastic or was it an amalgamation of crappy and fantastic bits that led to your jaunt?"

Camilla huffed loudly and ran a hand roughly through her hair in mental preparation for her explanation. "Well, today was the culmination of a little over six years of my hard work at a company that's chauvinist mentality has officially poisoned it's once pristine reputation for ingenuity. When I started working there right out of grad school, I was thrilled to be part of such a prestigious firm and filled with naive hope for all the opportunities I'd have to shine, contribute and turn my ideas into reality for the world to see," she ranted, flipping her tresses over her shoulder.

"So I take it reality didn't quite live up to the hype?" I asked cautiously.

She chuckled sardonically, "turns out they weren't so much interested in my ideas as they were in the fact that I embodied two of the three minority trifecta being both female and Latina. If I'd been handicapped too I probably could have gotten away with being a lazy leech like some of my coworkers."

"And you'd get a kick-ass parking spot," I pointed out.

"True!" she giggled, "although now I suppose it's too late."

"I'm sorry. I've worked in workplace saturated with testosterone but I was lucky. They were a solid team through anything they faced internally or externally and I was definitely a member of the team. I'm sorry your coworkers didn't realize that everyone, even, gasp, a woman, can contribute and that a cohesion of ideas usually yields the best results," I offered. "So, what was the fantastic part of your day? 'Cause right now, I'm just not seeing it? Unless it's meeting me and becoming acquainted with w*ish! Which I totally get, by the way!" I joked with a smile.

"Oh yeah, that," she said with a slightly sinister smirk, "I quit! I gave a pitch for a new account, ideas that were innovative and completely money in the bank, and my condescending boss told me he'd have to pass and went with the guy with the recycled ideas who barely scraped together enough credits for his bachelor's degree at a second rate college."

"What! Whoa, that is… wow. Well, it's their loss. You're clearly brilliant, if your taste in lingerie is anything to go by," I trumpeted, nodding to her half filled basket.

"Sorry, I just had to… ugh, get that off my chest. But I totally agree with you! Even though I'm pretty sure you're a little biased," Camilla added.

"Oh trust me, I'm a _lot_ biased," I added conspiratorially, "I'm actually the w*ish designer!" I divulged with a face-splitting grin filled with pride, exuberance and a touch of sleep-deprivation induced hysteria.

"Oh wow, you're amazing. Seriously! I live in New York and I've seen tons of lingerie brands from the more plebeian Victoria Secret to La Perla to more exclusive boutiques like w*ish, but your designs and quality truly stand apart!" she gushed while gesturing to various pieces that caught her eye. "You know," she added in a deliberately slow cadence, "w*ish has a crazy amount of potential, from a business perspective," Camilla pondered, almost to herself, with her fingers strumming along the counter of the display we were at.

"Really?" I asked, " _I_ think that but that's kinda like parents thinking their kid is the most brilliant being ever for mastering peek-a-boo…"

"Oh my gosh I totally agree, and I would know, as the aunt to nine little hellions. And if my siblings are anything to go by, you'd better hope no one hears your apt assessment of doting parents!"

"Crap, you're right!" I exclaimed jokingly while holding up a ecru, satin corset from the display we'd ambled towards to hide behind. "If anyone heard I'd run the risk of PTA moms across Jersey starting a phone tree to picket w*ish!"

"Hey!" Camilla exclaimed once we'd managed to stifle our giggles, "we're getting off topic!"

"Huh?" I queried.

"We're talking w*ish expansion," Camilla supplied as if it were obvious. "So basically first, we need to go big on publicity. We need to get the w*ish out there, mostly because it's just not fair to keep a gem like this secreted away from women everywhere," she explained with a slightly admonishing tone.

"Wait, we're what now?"

"Steph, seriously, keep up. Okay, so I think we should go the laughing Elmo toy route, you know?" Camilla shook her head and proceeded to explain her statement in response to my confused expression. "When the laughing Elmo toy came out, it was marketed in a way that made it seem like an insider scoop item which increased it's desirability tenfold. They marketed to parents, not kids, and made it where parents felt they _had_ to have them for their kids."

"Oh, okay. But why would we want w*ish to seem like a limited access, membership only brand? I want all women to enjoy access," I countered.

"They will, and from what I can tell, you're making a decent profit but choosing not to mark up products as much as you could technically get away with, given the quality of the fabrics and designs, so we have the whole not-a-money-grubbing-faceless-corporation angle going for us. But if we make the brand exclusive and inform the public but not inundate them, we can keep the mystery and it'll work to increase demand. It's basic marketplace psychology," Camilla expounded.

"Okay, that makes sense," I added warily.

"Don't worry about that stuff, that's my job! You just focus on making more fabulous designs!" Camilla encouraged, smiling wide and eyes twinkling with excitement. "So, obviously we'll need to increase publicity for w*ish and you but keep it in the right markets, oh and mix in a smattering of interviews for you. The passion with which you talk about w*ish, it'll definitely garner the right kind of attention."

"Mhmm… wait what? Why do we have to get _me_ out there?" a slight tension coloring my tone.

"Trust me, I _am_ the professional after all. You will also need to round out the collection with a few new lines. Do you have any ideas on that?"

"Well since you asked, I do, but they're mostly just things I've been kicking around in here," I added, pointing at my temple as Camilla's excitement infected me and I couldn't help but join in on her impromptu brainstorming session. "Okay, so I'm planning to participate in the annual Lingerie Fashion Week in October with a new glam*ish line which is going to be crazy sexy boudoir chic. Oh and I was thinking about a few other lines that I think customers would enjoy, like one for swim-wear, shape-wear and for more voluptuous women."

"Those sound like a great way to populate the w*ish merchandise repertoire. And, if we stagger release dates, you could have a new line or new iteration of an existing line come out every two or so months, which would definitely keep interest and sales up! So, any other ideas or dreams for this place?" she asked me with a knowing look indicating she knew I was holding out on her.

"So, one of the big things I've wanted to do since the idea for w*ish first popped into my mind was to start a buy-one-donate-one program to help the homeless or domestic violence survivors. Oooh, or women serving in the armed forces," I gushed with overzealous and potentially hazardous hand gestures.

"That's amazing. Really. And I _know_ you're not doing it for PR, but it will play like a dream. So when were you hoping to start that?"

"Well, I was hoping to be financially secure enough to do that by the one-year anniversary of w*ish, so this coming February," I answered trepidatiously.

"That is totally doable, as long as we start ASAP. And then the next milestone would be expansion," Camilla stated enthusiastically.

"Expansion?"

"Of course. We'd start small of course, maybe five to eight locations for the first wave and then another wave starting in about a year. The total number of locations would never get too excessive or out of hand, to maintain the veneer of exclusiveness, which would help you maintain the integrity of each w*ish location as well," was Camilla's succinct reply.

"But, is w*ish _ready_? I mean, this is a lot to wrap my head around," I eked out, the magnitude of what we were discussing finally catching up to me.

"Hey, don't worry about that, just take it one step at a time. I promise, you and w*ish are going to be successful. You trust me right?"

Baffled by the whirlwind before me who had apparently coopted a position of authority in securing the future of w*ish, I only managed to mumble a reply that Camilla took as acquiescence.

"Good, you should. I'm _amazing_ at what I do, and _my_ amazing is going to be reflected in _your_ amazing!" Camilla responded with a confident nod and bright smile. "Wow, I feel really great about this! So, I'll get started on things on my end, you keep on designing gorgeous pieces of lingerie and we'll talk in a few days. I'll call to set up a meeting," Camilla announced while fishing something out of her black, seemingly bottomless purse. She pulled out a cream colored business card, scribbled something hastily on it and shoved it into my hand.

"Camilla, wait, we-I didn't- you don't even actually work a firm to be able to take on w*ish as a client, right?" I interjected, finally breaking through the cloud Camilla's exuberance had blanketed me with.

"Well, that's what makes this whole day kismet. I quit, stumbled into w*ish, met you, had this incredible vision of success for you and w*ish, and I'm actually in a position to follow through and turn a dream of mine into a reality as well!" Camilla exclaimed, her tenor increasing in furor.

"I suppose it has been very edifying meeting you and benefiting from your insight, but I'm still missing what qualifies this as kismet?"

"Well, I've been toying with the idea of…" Camilla began before becoming uncharacteristically subdued.

"The idea of what?" I gently prodded, adopting her hushed tone.

"Starting my own PR and marketing firm with Tuck, a friend from undergrad who is a marketing virtuoso," she explained hesitantly. "I've just been lacking the push I needed to really go for it."

"I say go for it. There's no time like the present and I can attest to the fact that doing something that is your own and you feel truly vested in is deeply fulfilling," I added encouragingly.

"True, and I want to build something that is mine. One of my older siblings is like my personal hero and one of the myriad of impressive things he's done in his life is build a company from the ground up and I can tell it fills him with pride to be a part of something in that way," Camilla added with a knowing nod. "Actually, the way you talk about w*ish kinda reminds me of him…" she added, clearly getting lost in a memory of her brother.

"Mhmm."

"You're right," Camilla announced. "And as a thank you for inspiring me take this step, I'm offering you the highly coveted position as Mint Management's first client!"

"Congratu- wait, what client? Mint Management?" I asked, finally having caught up with what Camilla was implying.

"Yeah, I agree, the name's not great. How about Mod Management or Meridian Management. Eh, I have a few days to work it out. But don't worry, Tuck and I will come up with something perfect by the time we have our first official meeting!" Camilla replied, completely oblivious to my confusion to when exactly during the course of our conversation I'd managed to hire Camilla and her as of yet imaginary PR and marketing firm.

"No time to chat now, but congrats on bagging me for all of your PR and marketing needs!" Camilla added cheekily with a wink as she sorted through the selections in her basket and moved towards the plum checkout counter currently manned by a very curious Mary Lou. "I have a vision for w*ish, and it leads to success!" she tossed over her shoulder as she was paying for her items.

I nodded numbly and replayed our conversation to evaluate how exactly some seemingly harmless girl talk turned into me hiring a fledgling firm to handle PR and marketing for w*ish, my work baby. Although, Camilla _did_ have great insight and ideas and a desire to genuinely help me reach my goals, including my secret, never before spoken about aloud desire to expand w*ish to additional locations.

"Steph," my attention snapped to Camilla standing at the door to w*ish, "not to sound overly cheesy, but… I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," she added before sweeping out of w*ish with a large violet bag with gold crinkle paper bubbling from the top and w*ish etched in gold lettering along the sides.

Who knows, maybe she was right, us meeting could be kismet and together we'd be able to help each other achieve our respectively harbored aspirations. I let out a long, slow exhale as I processed the news of my latest (slightly unintentional) business decision. So far, going with my gut had worked out for me from choosing colors for various designs to the location of the boutique and so many small decisions in between. Hopefully hiring Camilla would fall into this category.

What I was certain of was that I was definitely ready for this step; ready to push my dreams for w*ish forwards. W*ish had been open for several months and we were solvent and making a pretty steady profit that ramped up whenever we introduced new lines. It was the perfect time to move forwards or I'd run risk becoming complacent. With newfound confidence in my supposed decision to hire Mint/Mod/Meridian Management, I walked towards my office in the posterior of the boutique past the dressing rooms equipped with rich, plum velvet curtains as doors and brushed gold accent hardware. I scribbled 'Meet with Camilla' at the end of my ever growing _To Do:_ list and tossed her business card into my top desk drawer.

I was at the door about the reenter the boutique floor when I processed the flash of her business card that I'd subconsciously managed to scan a moment earlier and panic quickly flooded my body, paralyzing me. I couldn't have seen that, right? There's no way… It's just the lack of sleep and stress making me mildly delusional. That's a thing, right?

A few deep, lamaze inspired breaths later I maneuvered back to my tinted glass and gunmetal desk and steeled myself before retrieving the business card I'd just deposited. I reread the name on the card only to confirm the cause of my earlier dread. How was I always getting myself into awkward situations like this? Kismet my ass; this was karma.

After a brief, shameful second spent contemplating firing Camilla (can you fire someone you haven't actually hired?), I shook off the panic induced crazy. She and I bonded and she would do her best to help me and w*ish, and that's exactly the kind of person I needed. Besides, she'd be nothing like him, if our conversation that included actual words and no grunts, growls or other manly-man noises was anything to go by.

"Steph, sounds like we got an awesome new co-worker!" Mary Lou commented from the doorway to my office. "Everything okay," she added after taking in my blanched features.

"Y-yeah, we did. She is half of our new PR and marketing firm, Camilla Manoso," I replied in an even, empty voice.

"No way! Manoso? As in…"

"As in sister of Carlos 'Ranger' Manoso, my equal parts handsome and infuriating ex-boss? Yup, I think so," I said in the same hollow tone.

And in true best friend form, Mary Lou simply nodded as if it made complete sense and we should have expected something like this to crop up before motioning that she'd see me back out on the main floor and tossing me a look that implied she'd be there to talk with an extra cheesy Pino's pizza and a box of sugary confections whenever I was ready.

It would be fine, I'd be fine, I reassured myself, stressing the word fine in my mind and squashing the niggling doubt in the back of my mind. I decided that this situation merited a stamp in my passport for access to Denial Land for a few weeks or even months while I focused solely on the bright side. Sure, I'd barely managed to escape one pushy, overbearing Manoso just to trade in for another albeit younger, more loquacious model. At least this one is more likely to understand the importance of stress shopping and the fact that pineapple upside down cake could solve anything.

She probably has better phone manners too.

* * *

 **SP POV - 03 APR 2015**

"So, why didn't Tuck come down from New York with you?" I asked once we'd all ordered and received our drinks.

"Eh," Camilla began, taking a quick sip of her krasi, Greek wine, "he didn't want to wade through the estrogen of our Girls' Night, so he's gonna drive in tomorrow."

"I don't blame him, after that time Duncan met all of you after we'd gone through a few pitchers of margaritas he issued a moratorium on designated driver duties post Girls' Nights," Victoria commiserated.

"Speaking of moratoriums, guess who I ran into at the Tasty Pastry this morning?" Connie segued.

"Oooh, gossip! Who'd you run into? Dish!" Calista demanded gleefully.

"So I stop by this morning to get my doughnut fix and I run into Angela Morelli and creepy Grandma Bella droning on and on about Gina Mancuso, the latest woman to fall short of the irreproachable and antiquated Burg standards because she divorced her deadbeat husband, when Helen Plum walks in with Edna Mazur," Connie shares.

Sadly, the Chambersburg chunk of Trenton provided a glimpse into the past where the men worked, women were consummate house-wives and children were expected to fall into their gender prescribed roles with no room for anything as scandalous as individualism. Needless to say, my childhood was punctuated with bursts of individualism and my mother constantly harping on me to emulate the behavior of Saint Valerie, my nauseatingly perfect sister.

"Oh gosh, what did Grandma Mazur do?" I queried hesitantly. Edna Mazur, my stick-in-the-mud mother's mother was a firecracker and a force of nature. She'd always been supportive of me from my dream of flying and fighting injustice like Wonder Woman when I was a child to encouraging (and secretly helping finance) my undergraduate business degree and finally as my own personal cheerleader when I started w*ish. She was a staunch advocate of doing what made her happy despite gossip and public opinion (chiefly finding herself a studly libertine since my Grandpa Mazur's death) whereas my mother's primary concern was always 'what will the neighbors think?' followed closely by how best to adhere to Burg standards and critiquing those who rebelled, especially me.

I grimaced slightly at Connie's mirthful expression. "So the second your Mom and Grandma walked in, Angela started talking about how you were a one-woman wrecking ball destroying the bastion of Burg ideals," she expounded with laughter.

"That backward, hypocritical bitch!" Calista exclaimed, clearly piqued. "I've had months were the _only_ cases I've tried were prosecuting Morelli men for some crime or another, yet Steph, with her booming business that is affording numerous people gainful employment, is a disgrace! I swear, one of these days National Geographic is going to do a documentary on backwards Burg behavior."

"Agreed, and Angela Morelli will be baptized Queen Bee Burg Bitch!" Victoria chortled and Camilla nodded in agreement having heard me grouse about the Burg biddies on more than one occasion.

"Tell 'em what happened next," Lula demanded, riveted by the drama, "because we _know_ Steph's Grannie don't stand for no smack talk against our girl."

"Oh, that's the best part! So, Grandma Mazur says how she's proud that you're paving the way for a new wave of Burg women who are sophisticated, independent and don't need a man though you definitely know what to do with some beefcake, her words," Connie answered.

"Oh wow, beefcake huh? Steph, you been holding out on us?" Calista jived me.

"Ugh, how is this my life!" I exclaimed, silently pleading Connie to end her story.

"Girl, that ain't even the best part. Connie, tell 'em what Steph's Grannie said next!" Lula prodded ebulliently, visibly vibrating in her seat with excitement.

"Right, so then Grandma Mazur says even Joe Morelli, the _only_ good Morelli man, recognizes Steph's awesomeness, because what else would explain why he asks Steph out _every_ chance he gets. Then she tells Helen she'll wait outside because she's allergic to the oppressive, anti-suffragette odor coming off of Angela and Bella Morelli!"

"I love your Grandma! Do you wanna trade?" Victoria jested.

"Hell no! But I will share!" I responded. "So, Calista, how're things going with the Volkov money laundering case?" I asked, hoping to encourage the topic along. Luckily my friends acquiesced and our campy colloquy continued.

* * *

 **SP POV - 03 APR 2015**

After an interesting evenings spent with my enchantingly diverse group of friends, I headed to my home of the past 18 months. My luxury apartment community boasted secured key fob entry, coveted amenities, premium fixtures and appliances to achieve a blend of elegance and sophistication.

I parked in my assigned garage spot and made my way to my apartment. I unlocked the door to the low hum of some late night talk show coming from the living room and tossed my keys into the silver jellybean shaped dish on the black slate-topped console table I'd placed in the foyer beneath a beveled, rectangular mirror.

I trudged further into the apartment, following the sound of the television as the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with me. I entered the brightly hued living room with an eclectic melange of furniture and decorative items to see my Dad and Grandma Mazur slightly nodding off.

"Hey guys," I whispered, announcing my presence as I clicked off the television and plopped down on the cerulean suede sofa with Grandma Mazur. "How'd it go tonight?"

"Oh, it was great. Thanks for asking us to do this, Pumpkin," my Dad replied, rubbing his calvous dome and laboriously extricating his slightly pudgy physique from the gray-blue velvet fauteuil with matching pouf.

"Dad, I'm the one who should be thanking you! I really appreciate both of your help."

"Nonsense, baby girl. We're happy to help and even happier to have an excuse to get out of the house," Grandma Mazur piped in while readjusting her pink velour tracksuit that clashed spectacularly with her raspberry helmet of ringlets she maintained via weekly appointment at Clip-n-Curl, a mainstay for the older generation of Burg women and gossip hub, in the hopes of luring a fellow senior citizen by outwardly manifesting her inner spiciness. As a plan, it wasn't half bad. She'd seen more action in the past two years than I had, though she was irked with the brevity of those encounters, although I imagine that couldn't be helped, even if she went the cougar route.

"Oh yeah, is Mom okay with this?" I asked with a grimace, hoping the favor they did me wouldn't lead to another litany of 'why me's' from my mother.

"I'm sure she hasn't noticed our absence, when we left she was busy on the phone holding court with other Burg busybodies," Grandma Mazur snickered.

My Dad huffed out a sigh before adding his opinion as I walked them towards the front door, "don't you worry about your Mom, she'll come around. You know how she is."

"She's a snooty patootie is what she is, Frank. It's been well over a year and it's her loss, she's the one who's missing out!" Grandma Mazur whisper-shouted.

I gave my Dad a quick hug and kiss and murmured a quick thank you to Grandma Mazur for having my back at the Tastry Pastry with Angela and Bella Morelli. With one last embrace, they left my apartment and headed home with promises to visit soon.

I couldn't wait to get changed into some comfy pjs and snuggle into bed, but I had a stop to make first. I ambled past the living room into the plush, carpeted hallway and silently entered the first bedroom on the right.

I felt an instantaneous wave of serenity wash over me replacing the fatigue of my grueling 15-hour day with a blanket of bliss. I tiptoed further into the menagerie motif room, inhaled the intoxicating combo of powder-freshness and possibilities and smiled at what made up the best parts of my day, every day. In two adjacent mahogany cribs decorated with daffodil and mint bedding, respectively, dozed Serafina Rosa Plum and Theodore Dante Plum, the lights of my life, my nine-and-a-half month-old wonders.

* * *

A/N: Towards the end of the flashback illustrating how Stephanie met Camilla, I used a line from Casablanca. Additionally, the wonderfully alliterative phrase 'Chambersburg chunk' and the a description of Connie's hair were, I believe, featured in Janet Evanovich's novels (although I can't recall which ones).

Lingerie fashion week is an actual event that started in 2013 (www dot lingeriefw dot com) which I totally exploited for the purposes of the story. It doesn't play in a huge way, just as a way to showcase Stephanie's accomplishments and growth in her chosen career.

Also, I know it's sort of a cop-out, giving Steph one of each (a son and a daughter), but I really wanted to do twins and it just felt right and fun for her to grow from and with. So, sorry if it seems awkwardly convenient or unbelievable, but it's just what's happening!

I really hope you enjoyed this and I plan to have more ready soon! (And wow, I can't believe it's been over a year since I officially started posting to this fandom. It feels like just a few weeks ago…)


	2. Chapter 2: Part 1

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter and thanks for coming back for another helping. A special thank you to everyone who took the time to review, favorite and follow the story, I appreciate all of your kind words and support.

I know the story starts off a bit slow, but it'll be gearing up pretty soon! (And sorry for not realizing when I first decided where to set up chapter breaks that this one would be a beast at about twice the length of first chapter…)

* * *

 **Part I. "A man, when he WISHes, is the master of his fate." - Jose Ferrer**

 **Chapter 2**

 **SP POV - 04 APR 2015**

I quickly slapped on another coat of mascara while checking my reflection before exiting my bathroom to head into the twins' room. "Thank you again for coming in on a Saturday morning Regina! You're a lifesaver, honestly," I said while heading over to the zoo-themed rug on which Serafina and Theodore were currently occupying themselves with pushing various shaped plastic items through their appropriately shaped holes.

Serafina was dressed in lilac and gray chevron patterned dress with gauzy pouf sleeves paired with lilac stockings with her curly, espresso hair, styled in the always popular "fountain" baby hairstyle and fixed with a purple ribbon. She fixed her emerald glare on a red cube that she was clumsily trying to fit into a triangular slot while Theodore was investigating a small, blue sphere while looking adorable in his camouflage t-shirt and overalls.

"Anytime Steph, I never mind helping out, especially with Fi and Theo. Now go before you're late! I can't handle Tuck complaining about that on the phone again!" Regina replied while helping Theo retrieve the blue ball that rolled out of his reach while expertly avoiding his penchant for tangling his hands in both her crimped, shoulder length black hair and exaggerated gold-hoop earrings.

"I know, I know. I'll be back in two hours, tops!" I announced before swooping down to give Serafina and Theo hugs and kisses on their latte hued cheeks. "Bye my raspberries. Be good for Auntie Reggie!" I called out as I headed to the living room to pick up my business portfolio from the minimalist navy linen tufted coffee table.

I hurried to my Mazda CX-5 and rushed to my breakfast meeting with Camilla and Tucker, exhilarated to go over the highly anticipated next phase for w*ish: expansion.

* * *

 **SP POV - 14 APR 2014**

"Ugh, I feel like I'm _never_ going to be comfortable again!" I groused as I fidgeted on the plush tan suede sofa in Calista's cozy town house while shoving one of her ruffled emerald throw pillows behind my back to alleviate the pain caused by my raspberries' recent growth and acrobatic tendencies.

"Get used to it. You still have two-plus glorious months to go!" Mary Lou snarked as she settled in next to me.

"Speaking of, we were just wondering how you were holding up. With the pregnancy and work and being on the outs with your mom," Victoria added with a level of finesse and that struck me as rehearsed.

"Is that why we're all hanging out right now? So you guys can check on how I'm handling everything?" I huffed indignantly while glaring at my so-called friends.

Calista reached forward to rest her hand on my arm from her seat at an adjacent recliner, "Steph, you're spreading yourself too thin and we're worried."

"I am not, I'm doing just fine on my own!" I protested while crossing my arms and resting them on my billowing, floral maxi-dress encased belly.

"This isn't… we're not expressing our opinions on the whole 'should you tell the father' issue. This is just about you and everything your shouldering," Mary Lou explained gently.

"Exactly. How you choose to deal with the father is your call, you're the only one who can make the right decision for you and the twins. And our opinions aside, we're behind you all the way on how you've opted to handle things, you _know_ that," Vic supplied, leaning forward in her seat, resting her elbows on her artfully shredded jeans.

"We're just worried that you're taking on more than is wise. I mean, you're working at w*ish, in the boutique, designing, dealing with manufacturers and who knows what else along with RangeMan. Throw in the fact that you're cooking twins, it's a _bit_ much on the overachieving, don't you think?" Calista asked with her patented courtroom head tilt-eyebrow arch combination.

"I mean, things with w*ish are still new, I have to put in the time to make sure things run smoothly and deadlines are met. And the merry men _need_ me, I can't just bail on them. Besides, I only work a few hours a month for RangeMan," I argued.

"Yeah, we get that you have commitments, but do you realize that instead of slowing down and preparing for maternity leave and all that nesting crap you should be doing, you're taking on more and more?" Vic queried.

"I just… I'm not sure what else to do. It has to get done and it's on _me_ to do it," I offered meekly, blinking through the buildup of tears in my eyes. The stress and obligations had been getting cumbersome for a while now, I'd been too busy to sit and let myself truly feel how overwhelmed I was. "What other options do I have?"

"Well, that's what we wanted to talk to you about, Steph," Mary Lou answered with cautious elation. "We've been thinking about how things are going and the fact that it's unlikely that your fabulous life will be calming down anytime soon, so we've come up with a plan to help you out."

I slowly absorbed their words as I thought over my precarious plight. I'd been gradually finding myself more and more inundated until the last few weeks where I'd found myself suffocated by endless 'To Do:' lists. I'd finally conceded to myself that things simply couldn't continue the way they had been when the treacherous combination of work stress, familial guilt and pregnancy hormones provoked several nights of me crying into my ice-cream with crushed Nacho Cheese Doritos (a baby brain inspired culinary concoction which I was eating with increasing frequency). I knew I needed help, I guess I was just reticent to admit I was struggling because to me, struggling seemed a lot like failing, and I could _not_ fail. Not with w*ish and definitely not with my raspberries. The stakes were too high, and it seemed that the same pride that motivated me to keep going despite the odds stacked against me made me hesitant to ask for help which, in turn, seemed to be precipitating my failure. And all I needed to do to prevent failure is accept my friends' support and love. I nodded, unable to shove any words past the lump in my throat.

"Great! Thank you, you won't regret it!" Calista gushed, squeezing my arm.

"Re-regret what, Coop?" I asked, laying a hand on top of hers and squeezing back, silently thanking her for friendship.

"Hiring Reggie, your new personal assistant, secretary and nanny all rolled into one!" Victoria announced, handing me a sheet of paper.

I perused what appeared to be the resume of one Regina "Reggie" Milton. She graduated with honors a semester early from Rutgers University with a B.A. in psychology. She'd spent the last several semester doing research and had previous experience working at the on campus tutoring center, Baskin-Robbins and babysitting.

"She was at the top of an extensive list of candidates. She's friendly, smart, hardworking and per her references, a savant with children," Calista expounded.

"Oh, and willing to take infant CPR," Mary Lou added.

"But, do I- am I a _personal assistant_ type of person?" I asked.

"Fashionista, business woman and soon-to-be single mother. Yup, you're in desperate need of personal assistant," Victoria supplied with a wink. "You're gonna love her, Steph, we promise!"

"Okay. I suppose I could use the help," I said with a nod as I deliberated how this would hopefully ameliorate my workload when I was struck with a burst of clarity regarding the past few minutes. "Oh my gosh, wa-was this an _intervention_?" I demanded vociferously.

"Well…" Calista hedged, looking at Victoria and Mary Lou for guidance on how to respond.

"It was something like that," Victoria supplied warily.

"Ugh, I can't even do the whole needing an intervention thing correctly! Interventions should be reserved for recreational drugs or alcohol or getting super slutty super often, not O.D.-ing on responsibility," I griped with an exaggerated eye roll.

"There's always next time!" Mary Lou sassed, patting me on the knee and causing us all to dissolve into giggles.

* * *

 **SP POV - 04 APR 2015**

"Hey guys,' I announced my presence before plopping into a red vinyl cushioned seat at Caffe Espresso Italia, one of the few remaining local eateries in the Ironbound section of Newark. I looked across the table to see matching befuddled expressions adorning both Camilla and Tucker's faces. "What?"

"Wh-where are my babies?" Camilla demanded, interrupting her ritual of doctoring her coffee. "I was _promised_ Auntie Cam time!"

"Huh? I _definitely_ didn't promise that," I countered, hoping that another bout of insomnia hadn't led me to making commitments I'd forgotten about, although that had more or less stopped since Serafina and Theo had started sleeping through the night.

"It was an _implied_ promise," Camilla said, waving her hand to dismiss my response while stirring her fancy coffee.

Tucker addressed my incredulous expression while perusing the menu, "we were looking forward to seeing them and they are honorary w*ish employees who're present at most of our meetings."

"I'll be sure to check our next meeting with their schedules," I quipped dryly. "So, what looks good?" I asked, snatching up the spare menu lying on the wooden tabletop and taking in the homey, old country vibe of our chosen meeting venue.

Once we'd made our brunch selections, Camilla called our meeting to order. "So, first we need you to sign off on the marketing material for the next w*ish line debut," she announced, handing me a few sheets of hefty photo-paper with glossy images promoting the new mommy*ish designs with her teal-glitter tipped fingers. Camilla was a strong proponent of projecting one's mood through their nail polish. Per our meetings over the last several months, she often felt "glittery", which is infinitely preferable to when she felt "matte", particularly when it was in a deep burgundy, like when Tucker had lunch with his ex.

The advertising images were flirty but subtle, exactly what I wanted to promote this line to new mothers. The genesis of this line was my grumbling during late night feedings and designs for personal use that I'd mentioned to Mary Lou about six months ago. She told me to pursue it as a design line for w*ish, but I was nervous about how it would be received or if it was enough of a muse to design around. However, Mary Lou, allied with Tucker, convinced me to add it to w*ish's repertoire. And now, several months later, mommy*ish would be making its debut as one of the alarmingly few high-end lingerie brands to have items catered to breastfeeding women.

"Wow, Tucker, these look amazing! I'm so excited for them to go out."

"Agreed, I'm confident the response is going to surpass all our projections. Especially since we're introducing the line just in time for Mother's Day," Tucker added with a genuine grin and accompanying dimple.

"And that will be a right around the time your Vogue interview hits the stands, which will also keep us forefront to our consumer market," Camilla added.

"Oh yeah, I'm really excited to see how it turns out. The questions were exactly what we'd hoped for to showcase w*ish and Natalie, the interviewer, and I got along great. It was more like talking to a friend than being on a stiff interview," I gushed.

"Mhmm," Tucker added as our waitress, a bubbly teenager named Sandra, per her name tag, arrived carrying our meals on a large, plastic tray. Once she'd delivered the meals and ensured that we were in need of nothing, Tucker resumed our discussion. "So _Natalie_ , huh? You're on a first name basis with Vogue staffers?" he teased.

"Hey! We just really hit it off is all…" I defended my newfound friendship.

"No Steph, it's great that you can literally spend 15 minutes with someone and walk away with a new either friend or fan! It's just…" Tucker hedged uncomfortably before looking at Camilla for assistance.

"Well, we just… we wish sometimes that you'd maybe turn all that friendly onto the male population with something _other_ than friendship in mind," Camilla illuminated carefully.

"What? What!" I exclaimed, completely unaware of how our lovely business meeting turning into me being shanghai'd into a conversation about my admittedly non-existent love life.

Camilla exchanged a heavy glance with Tucker before continuing sincerely, "Tuck and I just want you to be happy and I know you've had a lot of personal things going on and between w*ish and the twins you're pretty swamped, but you have so much to offer and you deserve to have someone to share your life with."

"And friend-zoning the entire male population is just _not_ the way to go," Tucker added.

"You're young, hot and fun, not to mention hella successful. _Enjoy it_ , Steph. Enjoy your life," Camilla implored.

"Cam, it's not that… simple. I just, I know I'm getting better at balancing things between the twins and work and friends and family drama, but it's still a lot to take and I'm not sure I'm in a place yet where it's fair of me to bring someone else into my crazy life. I'm just not… ready, as cliched as that sounds," I explained as best as I was able with a cringe. I'd thought about moving on romantically several times, especially in recent months, but the truth was, I wasn't ready. I wanted to be and I would be, just not today or tomorrow or probably any day during the next several weeks. Everything had been so sudden with the break-up and then between business plans and the surprise you're pregnant announcement my body gave me and then w*ish taking off and being a single parent, I hadn't really processed through the break-up and the fact that even thought things didn't, wouldn't and couldn't work between us, we would forever be bound by the two precious, perfect souls we'd created.

"That's fair," Tucker replied with a nod, "it's something that had been on our minds for a while now and now that we've told you, we're dropping it, promise." Tucker punctuated his statement by throwing a quick censuring glare at Camilla.

"Just think about it, that's all I ask," Camilla added with a nod of her own. After I answered with a trepidatious nod while blankly staring at the black-and-white picture covered wall between my dining companions, Camilla launched us back into our halted meeting. "Okay, so, next order of business, we need to talk about the locations for additional w*ish storefronts."

"What is your final recommendation on cities to launch the new w*ishes?" I asked with a forced, over-enthusiastic smile, relieved our conversation had moved back to a less loaded topic while digging into my garden omelet.

"Well," Tucker began, sifting through a few papers in his black, leather portfolio with the edgy Mod Management logo of two mirrored, casual, chunky script M's, "the best cities to facilitate w*ish expansion are Boston, New York City, Miami, Atlanta, Chicago, Dallas, Las Vegas and Rodeo Drive. We were thinking of starting with New York, Miami, Dallas, Vegas and Cali as the first wave to be opened in June and the rest would comprise the second wave to be opened tentatively in February."

"That sounds good, but, well… isn't five locations a bit _ambitious_ for the first wave?" I queried. "It's not that I don't have faith, I do, completely, in w*ish and all of your advice, but I guess it just seems like a lot of work and well, with the twins' first birthday around the corner and house hunting and the fashion week line due in a few months, I guess I just don't want to bite off more than I can chew," I explained in a jumble of words and increasingly enthusiastic hand gestures. I finished by slumping down a bit in my seat.

"Okay, we can definitely work with that," Camilla consoled, halting the progress for a bite of her colorful frittata. "And I think you're right, by February, things will have cooled down a bit and it might be more practical to open more locations at that time. What do you think, Tuck?"

"Well… I think we should start with at least four locations," Tucker hummed, looking back through some very detailed charts, "Pushing the Dallas opening until February would work best".

"That sounds great, thanks guys!"

"So, we were thinking June 5th for the first wave of w*ish locations, I've emailed you some tentative dates for interviews in the locations to check out potential storefront locations and owners to keep with our schedule. And we were hoping to open a few Canadian and European locations in October of 2016 to capitalize on that year's Lingerie Fashion Week's w*ish entry!" Camilla explained with her patented enthusiasm.

"So, when's your meeting with your lawyer to finalize the contracts for the additional w*ish locations?" Tucker asked around a bite of jam-drenched toast.

I indulged in a sip of coffee and returned the green, oversized mug to the wooden table before answering, "in four days".

"Okay, we've put together a last minute check-list of things to keep in mind," Camilla replied, handing me a set of papers. "It's just basic information on similar contract rates and terms for the lingerie industry incase you have any questions about things to include or what other companies were doing."

"Wow, this is amazing. Thank you guys, this is above and beyond," I gushed as I quickly perused the wealth of information she'd just gifted me with. "I'll make sure Duncan sends you guys a copy of the latest contract draft before we officially finalize it, if that's okay?"

"Of course, we'd be glad to look over it," Tucker offered between bites of bacon.

I replied with a broad smile before shifting to the final and least exciting topic of discussion, "so, what are the projected manufacturing demands for the next few months, especially with the new locations?".

* * *

 **SP POV - 04 APR 2015**

"Serafina, where are you running off to?" I joked as I snagged her from crawling her adorable, purple clad tush away from me and the edge of our fringed blanket and onto the grass. I plopped her into my lap, kissed the top of her head and handed her a couple of the oversized blocks Theo was playing with. "So Theo, what should we build?" I queried. I interpreted his thoughtful, amber gaze bordered by dense, dark eyelashes and accompanying furrowed brow to mean he wanted to build a tower and proceeded to help them build a fairly impressive multi-colored tower that rivaled them in height.

We'd spent a wonderful, relaxing afternoon at Branch Brook Park in Essex, a short trip from our apartment. I jogged with them nestled in their two-seater stroller, which seems high-tech enough to rival most aircraft, past the fragrant cherry blossoms, several greenhouses, the laurel wood boulder bridge and playground to settle us onto our piebald printed picnic blanket that stood out in stark contrast to the lawn near Branch Brook Lake. My raspberries took a nap in the shade of an impossibly large oak while I sketched a few ideas for nymph*ish, my entry collection for this year's Lingerie Fashion Week. After a quick snack of mashed organic peas I'd made myself courtesy of cooking classes from Ella Guzman, the chef, housekeeper and all-around mother hen to the employees at RangeMan, a private security company staffed by a curious blend of ex-military, ex-cons and me, an ex-Burg girl: me. After I'd helped Serafina and Theo tear and toss pieces of bread into the slightly murky lake to feed the ducks, we relocated to our blanket to play a few rounds of peek-a-boo, patty-cake and for them to test the limits of their ever increasing motility.

On days like this, I couldn't help but take time to sit back and marvel at the twist of fate by which I'd been blessed with the wondrous life that I had. I owned a thriving business I'd built from the ground up that allowed me to mesh the business acumen I'd acquired through determination to break from the limiting Burg mold I was expected to adhere to via Rutgers and my own creativity which was best expressed utilizing the skills I'd honed from years attending design school part-time. I had a beautiful family that I was able to grow and discover everything anew with by seeing the world and it's magnitude of possibilities through my children's wide, innocent eyes. I had a supportive, diverse group of friends and a (mostly) loving family. I was blessed, truly blessed, and I couldn't wait to enjoy the rest of the life I'd carved out for myself.

I shoved the sporadic yet persistent niggling at the periphery of my consciousness regarding the absent male figure in my Norman Rockwell-worthy quintessential, happy family picture back to the recesses of my mind. The three of us were _whole_ as a family unit, we were, I confirmed to myself. And happy, we were very, very happy. And so was I, I thought as I tried to ignore the memory evoked of the individual who'd imprinted himself on my heart and who I often saw staring at me from my children's cherubic faces.

Besides, they were still babies. I had plenty of time to craft the perfect answer to all of the inevitable questions borne from a likely evolution of their curiosity to discover and interact with the expansive world around them. And it's not like there was a dearth of male role models in their lives. They were doted on by everyone from my father, the usually reserved retiree who came alive in their presence, to a building full of Merry Men, as I'd fondly dubbed my coworkers at RangeMan who had all eagerly appointed themselves uncles to Serafina and Theo.

I was interrupted from my reverie by Theo toppling over the tower we'd been carefully constructing and clapping gleefully as he watched it crumble into a heap on our blanket, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Serafina observed the wreckage with a confused expression, her eyebrows drawn adorably together and a slight pout as she contemplated the cause of the untimely demise of her architectural brilliance. I interrupted both of my raspberries by blitz-attacking them with tickling and was rewarded for my tactical genius by two sets of surprised shrieks and giggles as we tumbled onto the blanket.

* * *

 **SP POV - 06 APR 2015**

I stepped off of the glass and granite elevator onto the 18th floor of the schmancy building that housed Vasiliou Ventures. My black stiletto boots marked my progress towards the glass reception desk that fit organically within the ice blue, chrome and white office.

"Hey Steph! It's great to see you again," the receptionist, Amanda, called out to me.

"Hi Amanda, is Aenea- oh my gosh! That is gorgeous!" I exclaimed, interrupting myself when I was close enough to notice the new, glinting piece of jewelry adorning her left hand. "When did Trevor ask?" I demanded excitedly as I held my hand out to better admire her engagement ring.

"He asked about six weeks ago," Amanda answered.

"It's beautiful," I cooed over the round cut solitaire that matched the twinkling in Amanda's eyes as she proceeded to share her engagement story.

"Trevor took me to the same park where he first told me he loved me. He set up a picnic in the evening with twinkle lights and music and flower petals," she gushed.

"That sounds amazing! You've got a keeper there."

"Oh, I know! We're trying to plan the wedding for this next March, so I'll probably be by w*ish to do a little wedding night and honeymoon shopping!" Amanda added with a saucy grin.

"Absolutely, let me know when you're coming by and I'll make sure you get the special friends and family discount!" I replied.

Amanda nodded enthusiastically in response. "Thanks! And Aeneas is ready for you, if you wanna head back," she said, nodding back towards his office.

I shot her a quick smile before heading further into the office. I passed by the arctic blue glass walled conference room encasing a 16 person, long white, granite table with matching white leather rolling chairs with chrome accents and knocked on the frosted azure glass door with Aeneas Vasiliou engraved on it in place of a name plate. Without pausing for a response, I twisted the sleek, brushed metal handle and opened the portal to the modern, white and frosty blue office to reveal the handsome owner of Vasiliou Ventures, his elbows leaning on his snowy granite with cerulean swirls desk and his lips quirked up in the charming, boyish smile I'd come to expect from him.

* * *

 **SP POV - 20 NOV 2013**

I looked over at my audience of potential business partners as I took a quick, hopefully calming breath and regrouped. I was nearing the end of my heavily rehearsed pitch for w*ish and I had been completely confident about everything from the design samples I chose to bring to the handouts explaining projections for profitability and timelines until I'd actually started pitching. I knew I had been saying words, I just wasn't sure what any of them were. _Everything_ since I'd handed out the information packets was just a rush of white noise. Hopefully I'd stuck more or less to what I'd practiced ad nauseam into the wee hours of the morning.

The white noise had finally subsided and I honestly wasn't sure which I preferred, being completely aware of how the meeting was going or being in my own bubble, oblivious to others and the world around me. Unfortunately, now that I was cognizant of my surroundings, I realized I'd stopped mid sentence. I turned a slightly shocked gaze at the angular, olive-toned face of Aeneas Vasiliou, Alexander Ramos's nephew and surrogate son who he was closer to and respected more than his own disastrous progeny, Homer and Hannibal. Having had the misfortune of dealing with Mr. Ramos's sons during my employment at RangeMan, I could absolutely see why he preferred the pressed, educated gentleman seated at the never-ending conference table before me.

Once Mr. Ramos had informed me that the meeting would be taking place at Vasiliou Ventures, I'd used my not inconsiderable RangeMan resources to dig up a little on the owner, one Mr. Aeneas Vasiliou. Turns out he was _technically_ a Ramos. His mother was Ramos's little sister and his father was a casualty of Ramos's entrepreneurial activities. Apparently arms dealing came with a unique and not to be underestimated array of workplace hazards. After Aeneas's father's death, Ramos's sister refused to let her brother's world touch and taint her son, so Ramos was diligent in keeping Aeneas apart from the sordid parts of his life. He did, however ensure Aeneas could boast an MBA from Harvard and a thriving business that included managing and growing his fresh, newly laundered funds in completely legal ways. Hopefully w*ish would be deemed an appropriate addition to Ramos's portly portfolio.

As I searched my mind to recall where exactly in the pitch I'd paused, I glanced up from my multicolored, pastel notecards to see Aeneas send a look of encouragement my way paired with a surprisingly genuine, boyish smile for someone who's uncle could strike an impressive degree of fear in someone with just a mild glower. Thankfully, his silent support spurred me to dig up whatever confidence I could and follow through with my w*ish pitch.

"As you can see, from the market research I've amassed, w*ish is conservatively projected to become profitable within six months of its opening in February of 2014. Additionally, with the proposed starting and additional design lines, w*ish will continue to garner public interest and attract every sect of women that fall within our customer demographic," I explained assuredly as I rested my fingertips lightly on the gelid tabletop. "I am extremely dedicated to making w*ish a success with innovative designs made with impeccable quality and superior customer care, and I would be deeply appreciative of the opportunity to proceed on this journey with your partnership, Mr. Ramos," I concluded, maintaining eye-contact and hoping for a sign that they were receptive to my proposal.

Mr. Ramos and Aeneas flipped back through the handout packet I'd given them, focusing on the pages that outlined the projected timeline and proposed designs. They continued to talk softly between themselves while occasionally referring to the document I'd given them outlining my vision for w*ish until finally a smile cracked and spread across Mr. Ramos's visage. Seeing that, I immediately released a breath I hadn't noticed I was holding with a whoosh and waited to see which of the three of us would break the silence.

"I've _always_ liked you Stephanie! From the very first time I met you and you saved me from my idiot sons, I had a feeling about you, krotída mou (Greek: my firecracker)!" Mr. Ramos exclaimed excitedly, his hands clasped in front of him.

It was almost too good to be true: Mr. Ramos wanted to help me make w*ish, my wish, a reality! This was the best news I'd had in months, and I couldn't wait to get started. I couldn't have stopped the brilliance of his smile from being reflected on my countenance if I'd wanted to. I was about to thank him, when I realized that he didn't _actually_ say any words to the effect of 'hey, sign me up for the whole w*ish thing'. Crap. Crappity crap crap. I really hope I hadn't just jumped to the wrong conclusion, it would be crushing to get close enough to having my dreams come to fruition that I could taste it and then have it all cruelly snatched away by my own enthusiasm. "So…" I began trepidatiously, not wanting to have to voice the question I desperately needed answered.

"Yes, that was a yes!" Aeneas replied when he realized my confusion.

"No, that was a _hell_ yes!" Mr. Ramos corrected, lovingly thumping Aeneas on the back of his carefully tousled head.

The concern that was creeping in was immediately replaced with exhilaration that I apparently had no filter on, per my response of "Oh wow. Thank you Mr. Ramos. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And Mr. Vasiliou, thank you too. I can't… I can't begin to explain how much this means to me," I said, furiously blinking to stop the telltale prickling of tears.

"Of course, krotída mou (Greek: my firecracker), anything for you! There's no need to thank us beyond making w*ish the success I know you can," Mr. Ramos replied jovially as we all enthusiastically shook hands. "Although, if you're determined to thank me and I still can't convince you to be wife number five-"

"Number six, Theíos (Greek: Uncle), number five was the organic honey maker, who filled the backyard with apiaries," Aeneas chortled. "Bee hives," he amended at my confusion.

"Ugh, damn bees were everywhere," Mr. Ramos shuddered, "I always try to forget about her, definitely my own personal _blue_ period, although strangely enough, she mostly wore red".

"Nope, only-wore-red was lucky number three," Aeneas corrected, smirking slightly with his sight focused on his shoes.

"Eh, I am an old man, it's hard to remember these things, you'll see _one_ day" Mr. Ramos shrugged, "perhaps as a thank you, I could convince you to at least outfit the lucky lady who will reprise the role as my wife in some of your brilliant designs".

I giggled at the wink Mr. Ramos tossed my way and nodded. After a quick negotiation of terms and the roles each of us would have with respect to w*ish, I was completely satisfied and excited to cash the check I'd been given to turn w*ish into reality and, thankfully, the humiliation from a particularly surprising outburst during which I'd compared Mr. Ramos, of Guns'R'Us: New Jersey, to a fairy grandmother granting me wishes had dulled.

"Thank you, again, Mr. Vasiliou," I said as Aeneas escorted me out of the conference room towards the lobby of his office.

"No problem, Miss Plum, and please, call me Aeneas," he replied.

"If you'll call me Stephanie or Steph. Miss Plum makes me feel like my mother's standing behind me," I said with a shudder belied by the humor in my eyes.

"Stephanie then. I'm looking forward to working with you," he said as he hit the inverted triangle button to call the elevator.

I smiled brightly in response, equally eager for w*ish to come to life. "Oh, I was wondering, was does kr-krotída mean? Mr. Ramos kept saying it but honestly, while we were in there all I could think about was making the pitch, everything else was kind of a blur until you told me he was onboard," I said in a whispered rush, tilting my head towards the conference room.

"Oh that," Aeneas said, stepping closer and whispering back, "he was calling you his firecracker. It seems my uncle is quite taken with you, and now that I've met you, I completely understand why". I was captivated by his whiskey gaze and alluring cologne despite knowing that I was likely reading something there that wasn't. "Stephanie?"

"Hmm… yes," was my ever eloquent delayed response, I blame him and the whole charming-good-guy-awesome-smelling thing he had going on. Yup. _Totally_ his fault.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out," Aeneas whispered back, close enough that I could feel his breath on the side of my face.

Hmm, I guess I was reading him right. Unfortunately, the last charming man I'd let in still had me reeling and it didn't feel right or fair to accept Aeneas's enticing offer. "I-well, I'm not really… I-"

Thankfully, Aeneas saved me from my stuttering bout and de-escalated the blush infusing my cheeks as I stepped onto the elevator, "how about we call it a partnership celebration".

"Mkay," I nodded as I hit the lobby button.

"Okay. Partnership celebration this Saturday evening, next time though…" he said with a twinkle in his eyes just as the doors of the elevator closed leaving me grateful that Mr. Ramos stumbled upon me angry, teary and a little hysterical outside of 1st Trenton National Bank and curious as to how things with Mr. Vasi- I mean Aeneas would unfurl.

* * *

 **SP POV - 06 APR 2015**

"Stephanie! Come on in and take a seat," Aeneas said, motioning to the two powder blue seats with chrome grommets along the edges across from his desk. "So," he began after I'd gotten comfortably settled against the curved back of the chair and placed my portfolio on top of his desk, "how's w*ish doing?"

"Great!," was my chipper response to the opening query he started each of the quarterly meetings we'd had over the past year and a half. "Everything is ready for the launch of the new line, mommy*ish, in May and things are progressing in line with our schedule for the new boutique locations," I explained, pulling out documentation for both topic points and handing them to him to peruse.

Aeneas skimmed through the papers quickly, gleaning the salient points I'd taken the initiative to highlight. "This all looks great; the new line should debut without any problems and I agree with the schedule you've put together for interviewing owners for the franchise locations and seeing the available spaces. Are you sure you don't want to increase the number of cities for the initial wave?"

"So, Cam and Tucker were initially planning to include Dallas in the first wave, I just felt like it might be a bit too much to take on. And I'm sure the four locations will be enough to start increasing w*ish's demand for when we open the second wave in February," I explained.

"That makes sense, although I can't imagine that between the five of us the result would be anything _but_ success," Aeneas replied with a smile. "There was one other thing I was concerned about, making sure we pick the right people to help w*ish flourish, so I put this list of attributes and interview questions for you to look out for and ask." I nodded as I read through the stapled pages he handed me, making a few notes in the margins on things to pay particular attention to.

"Thanks, and I _totally_ agree, however you or even Cam accompanying me on these interview trips isn't really a tenable solution. I was going to email you, Cam and perhaps even Tucker and Duncan about the final contenders to get your valuable insight. Also, I'm going talk to Tank about using RangeMan resources to run background checks on the finalists to make sure they're trustworthy," I supplied. I was acutely aware of his concern with handing over the reputation of w*ish, my work-baby, to literal strangers and trusting them to help make my dreams a reality. It was the cause of a small pit of nervousness that had taken up residence in my stomach since we'd first started seriously making strides towards opening additional w*ish locations. It was essentially a repurposing of the existing ball of anxiety that had plagued me on and off since finding out I was pregnant that only left when I'd gained enough confidence and amassed sufficient advice from friends to assure me that I would definitely _not_ completely screw up my children's lives.

Aeneas wore his relief with my response on his visage, "that goes a long way to making me feel confident w*ish will be in worthy hands. I just want to add that I'd like you to compile the interview question answers and your overall impressions of the various final choices and their background check results for me to sign off on".

"Ok-ay," I responded slowly, not sure why Aeneas was taking a more active role than he normally did.

Luckily Aeneas was quick to realize my concern and assuaged my fears. "Steph, I _completely_ trust your opinions and instincts, but I'd like to help and just provide another set of eyes that may see things from a slightly different perspective, to help make sure we find the best people possible. People we can bring into the w*ish family fold," he explained, reaching out to lay his hand lightly against where I had unconsciously fisted my hand against the cool desktop.

"You're right, that makes complete sense. Thanks for looking out for w*ish," I replied, loosening my fist and twisting my hand to squeeze his lightly in appreciation for his concern and dedication. "Thanks for looking out for _me_ too," I added in a sotto voce.

"For you Steph, _always_. Besides, Theíos (Greek: Uncle) Alexander would be disappointed if I didn't watch out for his krotída (Greek: firecracker)!" Aeneas joked, palliating the suddenly heavy atmosphere. "So, there's something I wanted to discuss with you," he said, drumming his fingers along the documents I'd handed him earlier, a tell indicating slight trepidation. "I wanted to talk to you about… about turning over the reigns for the Newark w*ish location," he chased his statement by holding up his hands to ward off my pending rebuttal, "just think about it. I'm not saying you're not doing an amazing job there, but you've got so much on your plate managing w*ish as a company, coming up with designs, collaborating with Camilla and Tucker and handling the manufacturing and shipping as well. It's a lot and with the new locations opening and being run by others, you might want to consider a similar arrangement for the Newark location."

I bit my lip partially in contemplation and partially to keep my reactionary outburst in check. Aeneas did voice a valid point, one that I'd been pushing to the periphery for far too long. I was running myself a bit ragged between managing w*ish the company and the store location plus the part-time work I did for RangeMan. Toss in the nine-and-a-half month old raspberries and I was pretty beat most days. Something had to give, if I wanted to stay sane. Once I really got started on the new w*ish boutiques, my work load would double, maybe even triple. If I didn't hand something off, Serafina and Theo would be the ones to suffer and that is just _not_ acceptable. Besides, they keep me fully saturated with happy, and I definitely crave that happy. The only things I was comfortable losing from my portfolio were either w*ish Newark or RangeMan. "I suppose you're right, I should consider handing over the management of the Newark storefront to someone, it's really the only place I can cut back responsibility-wise," I finally ceded only to be faced with a knowing, sympathetic smile indicating he knew I'd chosen to hold onto my professional bond with RangeMan a while longer. I hated that look, it was far too close to pity. "Ugh, you know I hate it when you're right!" I huffed jokingly throwing him a halfhearted glare. I knew the Merry Men would be there for my raspberries no matter what, but I wasn't ready to give up our monthly standing lunch date.

Aeneas followed my lead and moved the conversation along, "so, who were you thinking would do the flagship w*ish location justice?"

"Hmm, well Sofia and Mercedes obviously won't work because they're just part-time until they graduate from college," I began thinking my way through my current staff members. "Mary Lou's also part-time although I do trust her to do the job right."

"That's true, but if she doesn't have the time or want to take that kind of time away from her family, she probably won't accept the offer, however generous it may be," Aeneas added.

"True, so that leaves Allegra and Jessica," I clarified.

Allegra Peretti was a 27 year old single mother who was hard working, caring and fully vested in w*ish. Her ingenue had been whittled away by a manipulative boyfriend and incessant gossip harpooned by said boyfriend's mother and grandmother who creatively placed blame where it was least deserved in order to keep Allegra too downtrodden to demand what she was owed. She was also incredibly loyal to me and grateful because I took her in and gave her a way to support her family and escape the Burg. Gracie, her daughter, was the only good thing to come from Allegra's affair with a _very_ married Anthony 'Tony' Morelli, older brother to Trenton PD vice detective Joseph Morelli, with whom I'd shared a rather rocky past. I had been on the receiving end of the hypocritical wrath of Angela and Bella Morelli, and I was glad to help someone escape similar persecution.

Jessica Davis had racked up more life experiences than most 24 year olds; the highlights included pickpocketing and helping Callista Cooper, Assistant District Attorney extraordinaire, put her boyfriend and his associates behind bars when she realized they were graduating from petty theft to holding hostages for ransom. She had made bounds from the angry-at-the-world foster kid she used to be, but I wasn't sure she was ready for the kind of responsibility managing w*ish full-time would demand.

"I think I'd feel best with Allegra in the position. She's always asking for more responsibility and I think she'll definitely be up to the challenge," I concluded, confident with my decision.

"I agree, Allegra will flourish in the position," Aeneas concurred with a grin that highlighted his dimpled chin. "So, is that all we needed to go over?"

"Well, mostly," I voiced as I slid a crisp, white envelope with 'Alexander Ramos' scripted neatly on the front across the expansive desk towards Aeneas. "All that's left to take care of is me making my next payment for Alexander's start-up investment," I said as nonchalantly as I could manage.

"Steph," Aeneas huffed, giving me a chastising are-we-really-doing-this-again look. "We've talked about this, Theíos (Greek: Uncle) Alexander would _gladly_ sign the business over to you, as long as you agree to occasionally gracing him with your presence, preferably over a shared bottle of ouzo. There's no need for you to buy what is _already_ yours," he explained tiredly.

"Aeneas, I have to do this the right way. _Please_ ," I implored, using the full gamut of my arsenal, including a wide, slightly rheumy gaze.

Aeneas shook his head at my stubbornness and placed the envelope in his desk as I thought only $76,000 to go.

"Thanks, I know how you feel about this, but I appreciate that you're letting me do this my way." I gathered my portfolio and stood, holding my hand out for Aeneas to shake.

Aeneas shot me a quick smirk and shook my hand before walking around his desk to give me a hug. "So Steph, I was wondering, you feel like maybe getting some dinner this weekend?" Aeneas inquired with expertly feigned insouciance as he walked me towards the elevator with his hand hovering near the obsidian obi-belt that adorned my waist.

"You know, I _always_ have the strongest sense of deja vu whenever we have one of our meetings," I sassed with an infectious smile that Aeneas mirrored.

"So, that's a _no_ then," Aeneas interpreted.

"I'll see you in August, Mr. Vasiliou," I said primly as I stepped onto the sleek elevator, the reflective surfaces imbued with the crimson from my cable-knit sweater dress.

Aeneas just shook his head at me with his trademark boyish smile firmly in place, clearly amused by my antics as the elevator doors closed and whisked me back to the ornate, granite lobby.

* * *

 **SP POV - 07 APR 2015**

"Come on raspberries, we have to get going to visit your Merry Man uncles!" My announcement was met with equally enthusiastic burbles from Serafina and Theo as I quickly scooped up everything I needed for my monthly meeting at RangeMan with Tank Sherman, the dark chocolate mountain of a man who ran the Trenton RangeMan location and headed to my Mazda CX-5. After stowing my attache with a custom w*ish emblem and the black with multicolored splotches deluxe diaper bag that was full to the point of bursting in the passenger seat, I set about getting the twins safely ensconced in their carseats. "Ready to go?" I asked as we finally headed to the sleek, understated 7-floor RangeMan building in central Trenton.

Luckily Serafina and Theo were content to amuse themselves for most of the drive, conversing in baby-talk that only they were privy to, playing with the stuffed animals I'd learned to leave stashed in the backseat and enjoying the view as I navigated us to the slightly intimidating black granite and heavily tinted bulletproof glass building on Haywood Avenue. "Now I know you two are excited to see Uncle Tank, Uncle Lester and Uncle Woody, because, well, who wouldn't be, but I need you to try to spread the love, okay raspberries?" I requested, sending them a quick, amused look. "Because we wouldn't want a repeat of last month, right? You hurt Uncle Hector's feelings and he challenged Uncle Woody on the mats and well, that _never_ ends well." I took Serafina's gurgling laugh and Theo's spit-bubble blowing as acquiescence.

All of the Merry Men were surprisingly great with babies, although I suppose after witnessing a considerable amount of their skills including intimidating hardened criminals with just a look, identifying and eliminating threats under the radar and the oh so memorable 'redecorating' job where they ousted junkie squatters from an apartment building, I should stop underestimating them. Tank was great because the twins gave him another outlet for the doting affection he usually reserves for his cats and Lester Santos was another obvious choice as favorite uncle because he _can't_ seem to keep himself from trying to charm people, regardless of age, though he tends to reserve his efforts for women who've barely cleared the age of consent. Beyond the two of them, the twins don't really play favorites, but last week Hector Santiago in all of his ex-gang banger glory was passed over for a game of airplane with Melvin 'Woody' Woodrow in part because he has a swoon-inducing drawl courtesy of his Texas roots and his 6'2" height which increases the pleasure of being carried and tossed through the air. Needless to say, Hector was _not_ pleased.

Hopefully there'd be enough time for all the Merry Men to get their fill of Serafina and Theo, I thought as I used my key fob to open the underground parking garage gate and pulled into the spot right next the elevator that I suspect they kept open for me on the days they knew I was coming. I had just managed to wrestle the dual stroller open and seat the twins when a single chime indicated the elevator's arrival and I was immediately engulfed in a bear hug.

"Hey Beautiful!" Lester greeted me as he swung me around a few times before placing me on my stiletto-clad feet. "I came down to give you a hand," he announced as he grabbed my bags from the passenger seat and maneuvered the stroller into the elevator with me following.

Lester was the second in command of the Trenton RangeMan location and part of the core team of four that founded and owned RangeMan. He was in charge of wooing new clientele, public relations and strategizing various undertakings. I knew he could play the collected commando, but mostly I saw the guy that made sure I felt welcomed as part of the RangeMan family and was responsible for the great pranking war of 2012 that is to this day spoken of in awed, hushed tones.

Once the elevator started, he crouched his 6'4" muscular frame down in front of the stroller to greet the twins, shooting me a smirk and wink when he realized they were decked out in their RangeBaby finest: black cargo pants, black t-shirts with RangeMan stitched on them, black RangeMan caps and adorable, impossibly tiny black CAT boots. "Hey Theo, Serafina," he said, giving them high-fives, hugs and kisses, "we are gonna have a shi- tons," he corrected at my pointed glare, "I meant _tons_ of fun while Mommy's stuck with _boring_ Uncle Tank, okay?"

"Les," I exclaimed, pushing him in his stupidly muscled shoulder, "don't tell them Tank is boring! They're gonna start repeating things and their first words had better not be 'Tank's boring'!"

"Oh wow, you want me to _lie_ to the babies?" he asked with a scandalized expression yielding an eye roll from me. "What would Santa think? Naughty, that's what," he answered with a salacious wink. "Besides Beautiful, I've already conferred with the monkeys and we've decided that they're first words will be 'Uncle Les is our favorite'!" he joked, springing up to snag me around the shoulders and ruffle my hair.

"Hey!" I lamented. Unfortunately, the twins' clapping and wide, toothy smiles undercut my annoyance. I reached over to smooth Serafina's hair and fix her cap back in place before we walked off the elevator onto the fifth floor, the main operations area for RangeMan. We took a quick detour into the control room to say hello to some of the guys and drop of the raspberries before I headed down the hall to Tank's office.

"Men, we have visitors!" Lester announced our arrival as the men who weren't currently monitor the security camera feeds came rushing over to greet me and the twins, although I suspect they were more excited about Serafina and Theo than me, which frankly, I totally understood.

Hector was quick to snatch Theo out of the stroller before coming up to me a giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Hola Estephanie! (Hi Stephanie)" he greeted me before conversing with Theo in rapid Spanish. Hector was easily the most intimidating RangeMan employee in Trenton. He stood at a very lean 5'6", sported two teardrop tattoos from his days with the Latin Kings and, per rumor, could get very creative with knives. And in my experience, he was also incredible caring, gentle and protective.

I looked over at Serafina to see her engaged in a riveting game of peek-a-boo with Jeremy 'Cal' Callahan and the tri-colored flaming skull tattoo on his forehead, a souvenir from his time with the Navy. "Hey Cal, how's it going?" I asked as I stood behind him and gave him a quick hug.

"Oh you know, running searches for a case with the FBI and a few FTAs, the usual," he replied. An FTA, or failure to appear, identifies someone who didn't show up for their court date and was now in violation of their bail agreement. RangeMan worked with several bail bondsmen including Vincent Plum, my skeevy cousin with a penchant for fornicating with animals if the rumors are correct, and Les Sebring, who ran a considerably classier business. "The kids look good in RangeMan black."

"Yeah, we have Ella to thank for that. So, how's school going?" Cal had been taking classes to get his B.S. in psychology through online courses offered by Boston College for the past few years. "Are you excited for graduation? It's only another nine months now, huh?" I queried.

"Yeah, I've been working towards it for so long it seems a little surreal," he responded, picking Serafina up and tossing her in the air slightly shy of the three-foot limit we'd agreed upon after I freaked out on Lester several months prior.

"And Tank said he'd be changing up your assignments to cater more to your qualifications," I prodded, unable to curb my curiosity.

He nodded in response, "Yup, although I still have occasional monitor duty," he groused good-naturedly.

"Yeah, well. I doubt there's any escape from the mind and butt-numbing fun that is monitor duty," I chortled as he handed me Serafina, gave me a head nod as a good-bye and headed back to his desk. I was immediately surrounded by Vince, Junior and Slick clamoring for Serafina's attention. Slick was quickest, using the skills he honed during a misspent youth to sneak Serafina from my arms before I even noticed, smacked a kiss to my forehead and scooted away to play leaving me with Vince and Junior sporting matching disgruntled expressions.

"Hey Bombshell," Junior huffed, his wide shoulders sagging as he grabbed me in a quick hug followed by Vince. I had been given the moniker 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter' by an annoying reporter at the Trenton Daily after a few accidental explosions (which weren't really my fault, honest!) and the Merry Men enjoyed the story so much that they adopted it and I'd been referred to as 'Bombshell' by most of the Merry Men since. _Charming_ , I know.

"Tell Hector to share, Bombshell! He's been hogging Theo since you guys got here," Vince groused with his thick arms crossed across his equally thick chest and a glower adorning his slightly Mediterranean features.

"And here I thought you guys were excited to see _me_!" I joked, nudging him with my shoulder. "So, what have you guys been up to lately? Are you still crushing on _the_ Stella of Stella's Subs?"

"Actually, I asked her out a few weeks ago, it's going really well," Vince replied with a bright smile, ignoring Junior rolling his eyes at him.

"Yeah? That's awesome, I'm so excited for you!" I gushed, "So, did you take her to the restaurant I suggested?"

"Mhmm, you're right, she loved the dancing there, definitely impressed her," he replied with a smirk while Junior just laughed under his breath and shook his head.

"And what about you, Junior? Any lucky ladies on the horizon?"

"The _only_ girl I wanna hang out with right now is Serafina who's being monopolized by Slick," Junior grumbled before answering my question. "Eh, I mean, I do alright. I'm more of a one and off guy though," he answered with a lascivious grin and a shrug as Hector returned with Theo.

"No seas como Tío Junior, Sí Téodoro (Don't be like Uncle Junior, okay Theodore)," Hector said to Theo who was comfortably cuddled into his chest. "Chica," Hector said to get my attention while he tapped on his watch, letting me know that I was in danger of running late for my meeting.

"Gracias (Thank you), Hector," I said as I grabbed my black leather attaché from Lester, smacked a quick kiss on the twins' cheeks and finger waved a quick bye to Hal, Binkie and Ram who were manning the monitors before I headed to the end of the floor and knocked on Tank's office door. After hearing a grunt indicating he wanted me to enter, I took an instinctive deep breath, straightened my black blazer and entered the large room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking Trenton that had been repurposed into Tank's office and fought the slight shiver I felt every time I walked in.

* * *

A/N: I've been having crazy uploading issues and for some reason I can't get the entire chapter saved into one document so this is the first half of Chapter 2 and the second part is in the official Chapter 3. I'll try to fix this and get both combined as soon as I can. Sorry for the confusion and delay.


	3. Chapter 2: Part 2

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Incase you were unaware, this is the second part to Chapter 2, so make sure you read the first part of Chapter 2 so you don't miss anything...

Sorry for the delay and the fact that this chapter is uploaded in two pieces; I've been having super weird uploading issues for the past like 40-45 hrs and this is the best I could do for now. Hopefully I can combine the two parts into a single Chapter 2 soon.

* * *

 **Part I. "A man, when he WISHes, is the master of his fate." - Jose Ferrer**

 **Chapter 2 - Part 2**

 **SP POV - 15 OCT 2013**

"Hey Beautiful," Lester asked, his easy-going smile pointed my way when he noticed me waiting at the door to Tank's office, "whatchadoin'?"

Deep breaths, no emotion, I repeated my mantra for the day. "I, um… I'm actually looking for Tank. I emailed him about meeting with me and he said he could, but he's not here," I said, expertly avoiding eye contact and hiding slightly behind a curtain of curly hair and bangs.

Unfortunately, Lester knew me well enough to tell that something was off. He raised his arm to place a comforting hand on my shoulder and I could see the hurt in his eyes when he saw me flinch away. "Steph, what's going on? You were stoked about your birthday celebration weekend, what happened?" he asked, his hand now rubbing the scruff at the back of his neck and concern etched onto his visage.

"It was fine. I'm a year older, _yay_ ," I snapped, immediately regretting taking out my frustration on Lester who had always been a friend. "Sorry Les, but I _really_ need to talk to Tank, right now. Do you know where he is?"

"Yeah Steph," he said, gesturing for me to follow him further down the black granite tiled hallway until we were standing in front of the final door at the end, "you know, I'm _always_ here if you ever want to talk, okay," he added, bending down to force me to look him in his warm, green-gold eyes.

"I know Les, I just, I'm definitely _not_ ready now," I mumbled, touched by his concern but too overloaded to internalize it. I repeated my mantra to myself, and was about to turn the gunmetal doorknob when I realized where we were and shot a befuddled look at Lester.

"Because of the big mission coming up, Tank took over the big boss man's office while they team finishes prep work out of one of the conference rooms," Lester explained before leaving me to go back to whatever he was doing.

Deep breaths, no emotion, I thought as I opened the door to Tank's new office and again when a tremor ran down my spine when I stepped into the room. Deep breaths, no emotion. "Hey Tank, sorry I'm running a little late," I squeaked as I stepped in front of the sturdy, mahogany desk.

"No problem Little Girl, I should've given you a heads up about the change of location. Why don't you have a seat and tell me what you wanted to talk about," he said congenially, nodding towards the black, leather guest chairs in front of me.

"I- well… I wanted- ugh, just give me a second, please," I implored after stumbling through my first attempt at telling Tank I needed a change. Deep breaths, no emotion, I whispered lightly to myself, ignoring the look of concern dancing in Tank's eyes. "I came to ask you if-if I could change my employment contract with RangeMan," I announced succinctly yet softly, proud that I only had a slight mis-step. " _Please_ ," I pleaded as an afterthought as I saw Tank's customary blank face slip into confusion for a moment.

"Bomber, what's going on?" Tank asked, practically loquacious for a man whose mode of conversation was comprised mainly of ESP, grunts and glowers.

"Okay," I exhaled slowly, "basically I came here today to talk to you- well to ask you if it would be possible for me to become a part-time employee?" I queried in a barely whisper while making eye-contact with my hands that I had clenched tightly in my lap. After a few minutes of silence, I realized Tank had yet to respond so I braved a glance up at him and was surprised to see him imitating a fish quite impressively. "Tank? Big guy? Please, say _something_?" I implored, unable to stomach his silence.

Tank expelled a noisy breath while scrubbing a hand over his shaved dome. "Steph, what's going on? Everything was fine Friday, what changed?"

"I just… ugh… I need a change of pace and purpose and… just for me, you know. I really, _really_ appreciate the opportunity to have worked for RangeMan and with all of you. I know you were taking a big chance, hiring an ex-discount lingerie buyer for a mob front, and I'd never want to let you down, because I care what you think and about you, all of you. I've made some incredible friends and memories here and I wouldn't have changed an-any of the past few years with you guys. But, the security business, it's not exactly _my_ dream. It's important work, I'm honored to have been a part of helping support and grow RangeMan and I'm definitely _not_ ready for this to be goodbye. It's just… I've been working on something, a business of my own, for the past few years and I've _finally_ gotten the… push I've apparently needed to start turning my dream into a reality," I explained, throwing in increasingly energetic hand gestures to mask my nerves and hoping my partial explanation would be sufficient to satisfy Tank's curiosity.

"So you want to work part-time while you get your business up and running?" he asked, confirming his interpretation of my long-winded explanation.

"Mhmm," I nodded vigorously in response, my nerves on edge as I waited for his response.

"And that's the _whole_ story?" I could tell by the chastising look he shot down at me that he knew it wasn't.

Ugh, between the ever annoying Merry Men ESP and my inability to maintain a blank face, I suppose it was too much to ask that Tank would grant me the change in my employment status without extracting the full story from me. "Yup," I squeezed out with a forced titter and accompanying grin, "that's the gist".

"Steph, the truth," he demanded gently, crossing his arms across his broad chest and leaning back in his chair.

Deep breaths, no emotion, I thought as I schooled my features to project only the supplication that I wanted. "Tank, I don't really want to talk about specifics. Suffice it to say that I need a change, _desperately_. I've been making plans for my own business for a long time now and I have to pursue that, for myself." After a few moments of silence I occupied by fidgeting with imaginary stray threads on my black slacks, I couldn't stop myself from explaining what I was hoping my new position at RangeMan would entail. "I still want to help you and all of my Merry Men at RangeMan. If I scale back to just the office manager duties, I could swing all my work here in two to three days a week. _If_ that's okay with you?"

"I get that Steph, that's exactly how I felt when we started building RangeMan, but… well, I just don't want you to make any rash decisions," he hedged. "Maybe we could bring in the rest of the Core Team to discuss-"

"No!" I blurted out, the force of my voice lifting me slightly out of my chair. "Sorry, it's just. I _have_ thought about it, for years and especially the past several days, and I want what you had, the opportunity to build an empire out of a dream," I entreated, hoping my explanation veiled my earlier gaffe.

"Steph," he drawled slowly, "what led to this much needed push and your contemplating and planning this past weekend?" he asked with an eyebrow drawn up in an annoyingly knowing manner.

Deep breaths, no emotion, deep breaths, no emotions. My mantra was now playing on a never-ending loop. "Nothing, Tank. Absolutely nothing," I quipped with a sarcastic laugh. "I just, I need this, desperately. Will you help me?"

Tank forced out a frustrated huff, rubbing a hand roughly down his face. "What did he do? You were supposed to have a slightly nauseating, romantic birthday weekend. What. Did. That. Fucker. Do?" he demanded, his voice sharp and gaze unrelenting.

"I-I can't Tank. Please?" I whispered, blinking back the prickle of tears that I thought I had depleted. I reached out a slightly shaky hand to place softly over his tightly clenched fist that was resting on the wide desk.

After a few moments, Tank shook his head while staring down at his lap before facing me once again. "Steph, if you want to work part-time, that's fine. I'll make sure your other duties are disseminated among the men. You will, however be staying on RangeMan insurance and keep a company vehicle for business and your own personal use," he finally decreed.

"Thank you and agreed. Except for the vehicle thing, I don't feel right using, and likely destroying, a company car if I'm not really working for the company and it's going to be used primarily for my own ventures," I countered, the first genuine smile gracing my features in days.

"Fine, but RangeMan will pay to have a security system installed in your vehicle since it's likely your affiliation with RangeMan that would be the cause of any potential threats," he added, raised eyebrows patiently waiting for my consent.

"I can live with that," I nodded. "Oh, one other thing. I'd like the power of attorney person listed on my insurance to be changed to one of my friends."

"No can do Bomber. RangeMan SOPs (standard operating procedures) dictate that Ranger and the first and second in command of the RangeMan branch an employee is a part of shoulder that responsibility, in that order," Tank replied swiftly, reciting the RangeMan company policy.

"Seriously Tank? There's no need for that, I'm not even _allowed_ in the field!" I retorted, my truculent nature shining through.

"Well, do you still plan on helping with the occasional distraction? Because technically, that is considered being _in_ the field," Tank countered, an amused expression encroaching on his blank face.

"The boozy, smokey field," I snarked under my breath. Unfortunately, the mountain of chocolate covered muscles was right. Distraction jobs entailed me flirting, batting my eyelashes and basically using my feminine wiles to convince a wanted criminal to leave a bar (or on the rare occasion a wake) where an assortment of Merry Men are waiting to take them down away from unsuspecting, innocent civilians. And they paid well. Like really, really, really well. "I suppose _occasionally_ I will be in the field," I relented reluctantly.

"Great, so it's settled then," Tank announced, his eyes signaling satisfaction at his swift victory.

"Nope," I interjected, shaking my head, " _not_ settled. Totally unsettled. I still want a friend in charge of my medical care. I don't want everyone to know my business. It's personal".

"Rules are rules, Little Girl, so we can't just let your friend hold that position. But, I guess we could make a slight exception," he hedged cautiously.

"Okay… what would that look like, exactly?" I queried, sitting up and straightening my black blazer.

"We could restrict your power of attorney to include the first and second in command of RangeMan Trenton only."

"S-so, _just_ you and Les?"

"Yup," Tank confirmed.

"I can live with that," I agreed. "Thanks for bending the rules for me, Big Guy."

"Anything for you Little Girl," Tank replied, sincerity shining from his eyes. "Speaking of, if you need any help with this mystery business venture, I'm there, we all are."

"Thank you Big Guy, I appreciate it. And as soon as I get things officially figured out, I'll fill you in," I promised, my heart brimming from the support he'd shown me.

"And I… we appreciate your loyalty, despite everything," Tank added, trundling around the expansive desk to lift me out of my seat and give me a bear hug as I nodded in response.

Deep breaths, no emotions. Works every time.

* * *

 **Tank Sherman POV - 07 APR 2015**

"Hey Little Girl," I greeted Stephanie as she crossed the threshold into my office of the past 18 months, "is it meeting day already?". We both knew I knew it was as I looked forward to catching up with her and the twins at the beginning of every month.

"Yup Big Guy, it's been another month already!" she responded, with her ever chipper attitude and a glowing smile that had become even brighter since the births of Serafina and Theo.

"So Bomber, what's new?" I asked, indulging in a little small talk.

"Well," she began, plopping herself into one of the black leather bound chairs opposite the desk and placing her attaché on the unoccupied seat, "the raspberries are officially on a variety of mashed foods and testing their physical limitations by attempting to stand which means walking is just around the corner."

"The world is _not_ prepared for that," I added with a small grin, imagining the mischief those two would undoubtedly get into, especially knowing their gene pool.

"Ugh, don't remind me! And w*ish is doing well, we've officially started planning for the expansion and there should be four additional boutique locations opening at the end of May!" she gushed despite her attempts to school her excitement.

"Congrats, you should be proud. I know we all are."

"Thanks! I'm just trying to keep my eye on all of the milestones I have to meet to make this happen so nothing slips through the cracks. I feel like every couple hours I have something else to do, but all the work and stress will definitely be worth it."

"It will, we felt the same way with getting RangeMan up and running in Miami, Boston and here," I commiserated.

"Oh and aside from kids and work, I've decided it's finally time to embrace my adulthood and move into an actual house, so I'll start house hunting in a few days," she explained while pulling some documents out of her attaché and stacking them neatly onto the desk in three piles.

"Please, you've been a card-carrying adult since you decided what you wanted in your life, marched nervously in here and babbled about wanting reduced hours," I chortled.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she replied contemplatively.

"For the house search, make sure you find one in a low crime area, I'll send you an email on which neighborhoods to avoid. Also, pay attention to public lighting, security measures for the neighborhood… actually, I'll just email you a check list of things to look for and avoid," I replied when her brow started to furrow as she quickly jotted down my suggestions.

"Thanks Tank, I appreciate it. So, what's new with you?"

"Not much. Business has been booming but quiet, only a couple of amateur break-ins and a few tricky FTAs, but we ferreted them out," I explained succinctly. "And, uh… well, Zero got tagged by a skip in the arm-"

"What! Is he okay? What happened? How could one of you not tell me? I would have visited him in the hospital and brought Tasty Pastry," Stephanie chastised me with a disappointed mom look that had me feeling very sorry for the twins.

"Sorry Bomber, but it was just a scratch. All he needed was a bandaid," I replied with a grimace. At the time, Lester and I considered giving Stephanie a call, but we didn't want to worry her. Plus, Whiskey, the RangeMan Trenton medic who replaced the previous Trenton medic when he went on a government mission then moved to head the Boston office, confirmed that it was minor graze and didn't warrant a call or the whining Zero was prone to. Apparently Zero had a thing about blood, especially when it was his own.

"A _bandaid_ , really?" she queried dryly, "and how many _stitches_ was this bandaid comprised of?".

"Okay, you're right. We should've called," I conceded.

" _And_?" she prompted, arms held crossed over her charcoal and black chevron patterned sweater. She never really did get the hang of the black-on-black RangeMan wardrobe.

"And we will _definitely_ call you the next time someone has to make a trip to the ICU, Mom," I replied, causing her glare to slip into a slight smile.

"Thanks Big Guy. So, what else is new?" she asked with a lifted eyebrow knowingly.

"Nothing," I answered, shuffling through some black file folders to find my notes on what I needed to discuss with Stephanie.

"What do you mean, 'nothing'?" she queried, lowering her voice to mimic mine. "This is the part where we talk about our love lives. And since I have none because, hello: _babies_ , you have to carry the conversation!"

"Seriously Steph, you try to do this every time and it never works. Small talk I can do, I hate it but I do it, for you. Girl talk," I said with a shudder, "is where I draw the line."

"Ugh, fine. I saw Lula last week and it seems like things are going well. And if you ever do want to talk or whatever, I'm here, okay?" she relented after a few moments of silence filled with us trading glares.

"Noted. Now, on to business. I have projection lists of required supplies for all three RangeMan locations here," I said as I handed her a bundle of papers warm from my printer.

Stephanie hmm-ed her way through the documents before giving me her assessment. "It looks like Boston is expecting a major increase in security installations?" After my nod of confirmation she continued, "well, I think this should help me with renegotiating the contract with the manufacturer for a few of the more popular items. Hopefully I'll be able to save RangeMan a few grand," she assessed as she highlighted a few of the lines and added some notes in the margins. "So, were there any problems with the purchase orders for last month?"

"Nope. I did want to talk to you about some new technology that's available for electronic security," I explained, pulling out a binder full of information from the manufacturer, consumer reports and a comparative assessment by Hector, RangeMan's very own electronic security expert.

"Oh wow, this is… hefty. I see you've been doing some _light_ reading?" she sassed as she flipped through the data. "Hmmm, this looks really interesting, is this something you'd like to switch to? Because the cost of that," she whistled.

"Yeah, that's our main concern. From the literature we've found, it's worth it for select clients and businesses who we know are at risk from a more talented class of criminals."

"Mhmm, that makes sense. I think since it's such a new approach and system, I'll work out a trial contract with the company at a discount with the promise of a substantial order if they live up to their hype. Would three months be enough to check it out?" Stephanie asked.

"Yeah, we could include it in this year's RangeWeek competition, really put it through its paces," I added with a maniacally gleeful glint in my eyes. "And if we're testing it out with a few select clients, I think we should include w*ish in th-"

"Nope, I'm happy with the system I have. Besides, there have been no incidents. Apparently high end lingerie is not really a big score, theft-wise."

"Hmmm, I would beg to differ. Whenever I see one of them purple w*ish bags at Lula's I just _know_ I'm about to score," I deadpanned.

"Tank! Ugh… I don't know whether to be proud of my designs or disappointed in your sense of humor," she groused.

"Both," I replied seriously.

Stephanie just shook her head in mock outrage and continued on with our meeting. "So, any other take aways from your weekly RangeMan meetings?"

"Yeah, the other office managers and their number twos liked your pitch for the completely digitized forms for all RangeMan services because it was such a big hit for cataloguing efforts for installs. So whenever you can get those setup, we'll implement them."

"Perfect! I really think this change will help save everyone time and if anything needs to be added or customized, just let me know and I'll take care of it," she explained, handing me a black USB device. "Everything is on there and I've also saved a copy to the RangeMan Trenton server."

"Thanks Bomber. I think that wraps things up, unless you can think of anything we still need to go over?" I asked, storing the USB in the top drawer in the desk.

"Nope, that's it for me," she answered.

"Well, before we go to reclaim your progeny from the men, I just wanted to say that after our meeting yesterday, I told him to return your calls. You were friends and he owes it to both of you to at least check in," I explained. I did this every few months and so far the payout had been the same each time. I was invited to join him on the mats at 0600 the next time he was in town. Fucker.

I was amazed at Stephanie's shocked expression. She knows how all of us at RangeMan feel about her. Hell, even the guys at the other locations that have never had the pleasure of meeting her loved her, especially now that she's found another way to reduce the incessant burden of paperwork. "Th-thanks Tank, I deeply appreciate that you'd do that… for me, but it's fine, really. It's been so long now that when I do take the time to call every once in a while it's mostly because I feel it's the right thing to do, you know? I _definitely_ don't hope for much or expect anything from him like I did before things started to get real," she explained earnestly, a look of understanding and resolution settled in her cobalt gaze.

I couldn't decide if I was glad that Stephanie had transformed into an independent, confident woman who knew she could go it alone and was eager to do so, or be sad that she was missing out on a friendship and partnership that had somehow dissolved because of my honorary brother's misguided sense of chivalry and honor. Unfortunately, he was too stubborn to realize his lack of communication was now running him a substantial deficit in both the chivalry and honor departments and everyone in the Trenton office was too loyal to Stephanie to spell it out for him.

"He misses you, you know?" I offered quietly.

"Heh," she snorted dryly. "I learned a _long_ time ago that he is better at showing people how he feels with his actions rather than his words. But thanks for trying, Big Guy," she replied sardonically.

"Well, he does. And he'll come around, eventually," I countered, hoping Stephanie's big heart would give him a chance when he finally extracted his head from his ass.

"I used to want that, more than anything. But now, I just don't have the energy to care or wait. I've built a life for myself and I'm happy, honestly. And I just hope that wherever he is, he has some happy too," she replied. "I think this is just how things were always meant to be," she added softly.

"I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree for now," I replied, heaving my large frame up and following the edge of the desk around towards the door. "Let's go see what kind of trouble the twins have gotten into."

"Sounds good," Stephanie replied, shoveling all of her documents back into the attaché that was slung over her left shoulder and proceeding me out of the door.

We ambled to the break room situated across from the control room where most of the men (on and off duty, from the looks of it) were situated. I muscled us in to find several of my men and Ella entertaining and observing the twins who were situated in a makeshift fort fashioned by creatively repurposing office furniture, a table and a couple of kevlar vests.

"Oh my gosh!" Stephanie squealed, "this looks like so much fun! Grandma Mazur used to help me make a fort in her dining room when I needed a break from my mom when I was a kid!". She hunkered down in the fort with the twins, giving them hugs and kisses.

" _Just_ when you were a kid? Come on Bombshell, you know you still hide out from your mom with your sex-crazed granny," Slick teased.

"True," Stephanie conceded with a sassy smirk, "But now we hide out in my living room with a pitcher of margaritas instead of hot chocolate!". Partway through exiting via one of the kevlar 'doors', Stephanie paused with an excited, blabbering Serafina in her arms, "is tha-are there _bullet_ holes in the kevlar?" she whisper shouted so as to not alarm the twins, they were freakishly attuned to her mood.

"Like you've never seen a bullet hole," Woody drawled with a crooked eyebrow.

"I well… _they_ haven't" she argued, jutting her chin at the twins.

"Don't worry about it, Bomber. The mini-me clothing looks great," I interjected, hoping to Stephanie while I shot a glare at Woody indicating he and whoever else thought it was a good idea to make a playpen out of used kevlar would be meeting me on the mats the next morning at 0500 for some rigorous hand-to-hand training. RangeMan had the _best_ disciplining system, bar none.

"Mhmm, they look adorable in their mini-RangeMan outfits!" Ella gushed, reaching into the fort to scoop up Theo who was battling with a rolling office chair.

"I agree, though I'm pretty biased! And thanks for making them Ella, I'm pretty sure it's their favorite thing to wear."

"Anytime dear, you know I love spoiling these two cuties," Ella replied.

"I think we really need to go all out though, really commit to the whole ensemble," Lester added, "mini handcuffs, mini guns-"

"What! No. Nope, _no_ guns near my raspberries," Stephanie asserted with her free hand planted firmly on her hip and a sharp look directed at Lester.

"Not a real gun, Beautiful! Sheesh, what kind of potential-godfather do you take me for?" he countered, hand held over his heart and a shocked look coloring his features causing Stephanie to roll her eyes exaggeratedly as he continued to push for a godfather anointment.

"Oh yeah, that would be awesome. We could get little plush guns that we could velcro to their pants!" Hal appended excitedly. I hate to admit it, but it would be pretty badass.

Hal and Lester were saved from Stephanie's retort by her stomach growling sinisterly.

"Okay men, we're rolling out to get lunch at Shorty's. If you're free or have time for a break, we'll rendezvous there in ten," I announced in my booming, commanding officer voice, galvanizing all of my employees into heading for the stairs. I shook my head, grabbing Theo and the twins' jumbo diaper bag from one of the break room chairs to follow Stephanie to the elevator.

Stephanie had a pull that made people want to be around her and, in the case of me and my colleagues, show her a softer side of ourselves. She had always had that power, from the very first day I met her, and apparently, nothing's changed, I thought as I followed Stephanie onto the elevator, the ghost of a smile gracing my face.

* * *

 **SP POV - 07 APR 2015**

After a very satisfying and unhealthy extended lunch, I situated the twins in their stroller, piled the diaper bag in and said a few quick goodbyes to my Merry Men. I really appreciated that they tried to keep lunch free to spend with me and the raspberries after my monthly meeting with Tank. They had all accepted me during my tenure as a full-time RangeMan employee and loosing that feeling of belonging and being cared for was something I was worried about when I changed from part-time to only being in the office for a few hours once a month. Of course, they showed me how much I underestimated them and their affection towards me when they demanded lunch to catch up after my first monthly meeting ended.

"Bye guys!" I said with a little finger wave, "say bye guys," I prompted the twins to wave goodbye to their Merry Uncles. Once they did, I swiveled the double stroller using skills I'd acquired over the past several months, I'd almost made it to the door of the seedy, poorly lit establishment when Serafina's babble halted me in my tracks.

"Bye-bye! Bye-bye! Bye-bye-bye!" she exclaimed excitedly while clapping.

"Oh my gosh!" I shouted, running around the stroller to crouch in front of her. "Did you just say bye-bye Serafina? Can you do it again for me?" I queried as the Merry Men looked on in interest, waiting to hear the real word that months of baby babble had finally produced.

"Bye-bye!" she repeated before giggling adorably, her eyes lit with amusement.

I gave her and Theo a quick hug and peck as I saw some of the Merry Men come over to us.

"Wow, Bombshell. First words, huh?" Slick commented.

"Yup!" I replied proudly, my cheeks starting to hurt from my wide smile.

"Guess she's in a hurry to get going, huh?" Lester asked, stooping down to to be eye level with Serafina. "Do you have somewhere better to be than with your _favorite_ Uncle, Fi?"

"Bye-bye!" she said, reaching out to poke his nose, causing the rest of the Merry Men to break out into laughter.

"She's a smart cookie, she knows to stay away from Santos!" Tank boomed amid bursts of laughter.

I gave Lester a quick peck on the cheek, sent another wave to the Merry Men and headed outside and encountered the blaring sun beating down on the broken pavement of Shorty's parking lot. In true RangeMan form, the guys' RangeMan issued Jeeps and Tahoes were parked door adjacent illustrating their enviable parking karma. My Mazda CX-5 was towards the back of the parking lot and dumpster adjacent, naturally. I had navigated myself, the twins and their giant stroller to the last row of parking when I noticed a jean clad figure lounging against the front bumper of my vehicle, his hands shoved into his pockets and a smarmy smirk plastered on his angular, tanned face framed by slightly overgrown, wavy black hair. Joseph Morelli. And here I was hoping my foray into Trenton would be without drama.

I halted abruptly, angling myself between Joe and my raspberries. I could tell that several of the Merry Men had filtered out of Shorty's to head back to work or enjoy the rest of their day off, so I didn't bother with calling or hitting the RangeMan issue panic button I had stashed in the diaper bag.

Morelli and I didn't have the friendliest of histories. We both grew up in the same neighborhood and the fact that neither of us conformed to what was expected of us was the only thing we had in common. Morelli men grew up to drink, cheat, beat their wives and children, and die young. Morelli fought that stereotype by joining the Navy then the Trenton Police Department where he was currently one of their top detectives. I inadvertently cleared him of a murder charge early during my time at RangeMan while investigating a missing hooker. Since then, he's kept me on his radar as a potential future housewife, something I have less than no interest in and am thankfully under-qualified for. Unfortunately, he seems to interpret everything from my polite refusal to outright repulsion as some strange yet enticing form of playing hard to get.

"Hey Cupcake," he drawled, a tactless reminder of my impulsive decision making as a teenager that he mistook as charming. He rose from his perch against my SUV and after an initial stumble, sauntered over to me. "I've missed your fine ass."

Seriously? That's the line he's going with. Guess being known as the guy with the best ass in Trenton also gives you license to _be_ the biggest ass in Trenton. At this point the whole 'did it hurt when you fell from heaven' shit would've been preferable. "Morelli," I said with a stiff nod before attempting to skirt him with the stroller.

He shot a hand out to grasp my upper arm, holding me in place. I had considerable self-defense training from the Merry Men, but I didn't want to escalate the situation unless it was necessary. "I've been wanting to talk to you," he leaned in to say, his breath washing me in a miasma of stale beer. Huh, I guess he hadn't completely escaped the Morelli men curse.

"I don't have time right now, I need to get back to work," I responded, wrenching my arm free. I could tell the Merry Men who were in the parking lot were aware of Joe's presence because their chatter had halted. I really hoped Joe would have the good sense to leave before they felt the need to get involved.

"Right, your _work_ ," he said condescendingly, "your company is a joke. What you really need to do is accept that we belong together, Cupcake, and start spreading those legs." He punctuated his thought by giving me a slow, thorough appraisal from head to toe, paying special attention to my chest and legs like the shallow shit that he is.

I could see Lester, Hector and Manny in my peripheral vision, ready to whisk Serafina, Theo and I to safety if need be and I replied to Joe brusquely, emboldened by their presence. "No, we do _not_ belong together. I would've thought me clipping you with Big Blue would have clued you in to the fact that I am not interested." I started to slowly step away while pushing the stroller ahead of me into Manny's capable hands, just incase.

"You're Burg, Cupcake, there's no escapin' it and the sooner you realize that the better. You just need to take my Grandma Bella up on her generous offer to teach you how to cook and we could finally start our future together," he asserted, eliciting a what-the-hell look from me as I turned around after nodding at Manny to remove Serafina and Theo from the potentially volatile situation. "I'll even humor your _little hobby_ of dreaming up fancy thongs, it just needs to stay in our bedroom. Hell, I'll _even_ take in your brats!" he added, as if he was doing me a favor.

His callous remark snapped like a shot through the air and the remaining Merry Men descended upon us, forming a boundary around Morelli, Hector, Lester and I. They looked calm and disinterested with their patented blank faces, but I could feel the tension rolling off of them. It called to me and the outrage burning through my veins. I fisted my hands to keep from reaching out to strangle Joe and to keep the fury induced tremors at bay. How dare he?! This shit ends _now_.

"Joseph Anthony Morelli," I whispered harshly, arms akimbo and my cobalt glare burning into him, "I do not now or ever want to be linked to you in any romantic or domestic capacity. _Ever_! I am living the life of my choosing and will continue to do so, without you". I cut off his attempt to interject with an outward-held palm that I traded for pointing at him when it was clear he was too shocked by my fervor and rejection to continue. "And don't you _ever_ speak about my children like that again or I guarantee you won't like the consequences!" I finished threatening him, still whisper yelling.

Joe had the nerve to chuckle, "I'll say whatever the hell I want to about your brats, no one's gonna say or do shit to me over some half-breed bastards!" he countered with smug bravado as I recoiled as if slapped. The next thing I knew, Lester had me hoisted off the ground, his arms banded around my waist with my back to his front.

"Deep breaths, Beautiful. It's not wise to assault a police officer," he chastised softly though I could detect a hint of pride in his tone. I looked around to find out what happened when it all rushed back like a blurry, out-of-body experience. Apparently in my haze of anger, I'd landed a perfect right-hook fueled by rage on Morelli's nose, which was currently smushed and bleeding copiously. Hmmm, I guess that explains the tingly feeling in my fist and wow, Cal _was_ right, rotating my hips to follow through on the punch really does make a difference.

I nodded and Lester finally set me on my stilettos before striking a menacing pose behind me with his arms crossed across his broad, RangeMan-shirt clad chest, muscled legs slightly apart and viridescent glare accompanying his blank face. Before I could even formulate a reply, Morelli opened his trap despite Hector and Tank flanking him, not to mention the intimidating Merry Men surrounding us.

"Don't even know who your baby daddy is, _do_ you?" came his garbled, vitriolic chortle, causing the circle formed by Merry Men around us to tighten.

I knew Morelli wasn't saying anything that hadn't been said by other's all over Trenton, but neither they nor he were integral enough to my life to be in the know, especially when I had yet to let said baby daddy know; that didn't lessen the sting of having it thrown in my face though. I knew there was no point arguing with him, he would never see things from any perspective but his own as it was most convenient and flattering for himself. I just needed to end this so we could all walk away while letting him know he crossed a line that he should never encroach upon again. I knew the guys would keep me and, more importantly, the twins safe, but I didn't want to risk an altercation anywhere near the vicinity of the twins or with a TPD officer. It just wasn't worth it. _Joe_ wasn't worth it.

"I suggest that we both just walk away and avoid or ignore each other in the future. And it would behoove you to remember the next time, I won't be so forgiving," I warned. I turned sharply and walked away with Lester covering me while the remaining Merry Men prevented Morelli from following.

"You're so brave with you goon squad, huh? You know what, you're right. There's no way the Italian Stallion would settle for RangeMan's leftovers," Morelli shouted at my back.

I turned around and walked backwards while retorting. "I'm glad we agree that neither of us deserves the other. And remember, me and my _little hobby_ of designing high-end lingerie have garnered quite a bit of attention and rewarded me with not inconsiderable clout, acquaintances and resources. It would be _nothing_ for me to have you bumped down to a beat cop or have your brother brought up on charges for shirking child support responsibilities…" I left my threat hanging in the air and with a smug smirk and finger wave, I pivoted back around and the pitter of my pointy-toed heels only ceased when I was crouched in front of the stroller that Manny had parked behind my SUV. I ran my hands over the twins, letting their adorableness calm me.

"Man, he's _worse_ than herpes," Lester commented, giving Manny a fist bump and looking through the sparse curtain of vehicles separating us from the melee, "actually, no, herpes is always worse," he concluded with a shiver.

* * *

 **SP POV - 07 APR 2015**

After spending a few hours handling w*ish business and a relaxing evening at home with Serafina and Theo, the earlier unpleasantness with Morelli was mostly forgotten. At some point during our nightly bath-time rigmarole as I was splashed with sudsy water, I realized that despite the rumors circulating Trenton regarding my untraditional life choices, I was happy, completely happy, down to my soul. The life I had was exactly what I wanted, to hell with what anyone else thought!

Of course, my epiphany was interrupted by my cell phone chiming to indicate a voicemail had been left. A voicemail from my mother who was a staunch supporter of Detective Morelli and had never failed to find fault with everything I did. She prided herself on epitomizing Burg ideals and part of that required that her children toe the restrictive Burg line. My older sister, dubbed Saint Valerie, was happy to conform to Burg expectations. She used college to husband-hunt like all good Burg girls, got married to Steve the slime-ball, popped out a few kids and became Suzie Homemaker. The fact that they had to move to California for Steve's job was the _only_ thing my mother didn't care for, but at least she could still brag about Valerie for being the perfect Burg wife and mother despite not actually being in the Burg.

Growing up I was criticized and punished as much as Valerie was praised and rewarded. Everything Valerie did was something more for my mother to brag about and raise her social standing while my choices yielded lamenting 'why me's' and 'what will the neighbors think's' which was why I hid out at Grandma Mazur's as often as I did. She encouraged my individuality and dreams that were far too big for the Burg to bear and was the first person who encouraged me to spread my wings and fly.

I was currently prolonging tonight's bedtime story with individual character voices and a little side commentary to avoid listening to the message my Mother left. I was lounging on the rocking chair in the nursery with Serafina and Theo cuddled into me while finishing reading Jane Yolen's _How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight?_ to them and took a few minutes to enjoy holding them, admiring their adorable little noses and impossibly long eyelashes. After putting it off as much as I could, I settled my raspberries into their cribs, tucking them in and planting a few kisses on each of them. I carefully closed the door and headed down the hallway towards my bedroom.

I fished my cell phone out of my pocket and plopped onto my bed, leaning against the padded, cream headboard. I looked to my left where one of my pregnancy photoshoot pictures was displayed. It was black and white, a silhouette of me down to my upper thigh in a room filled with hanging gossamer curtains, my hands bracketing my stomach in a fitted dress, my wild curls piled elegantly up and sunlight filtering artfully through. The image never failed to provide me with quiet strength and focus. It helped me remember that everything I put up with was worth it because I had two precious souls that I had the honor of being responsible for.

I took a deep breath and hit play on my only remaining message from the avalanche of phone calls I received due to gossip regarding my run-in with Morelli. Luckily, since I'd moved out of the Burg, the only calls I received now were from actual friends who cared and not people trying to get the inside scoop. "Stephanie, this is your mother calling. Why don't you ever answer your phone? I raised you better than that, missy. Mary Buzic's daughter works as a nurse at St. Francis' and said that poor Joseph Morelli came in this afternoon with a broken nose and blood running down his shirt. He said it was from a run-in with a criminal but Irma said her daughter, your cousin Shirley, said her husband Eddie heard at work from Officer Picky that it was _you_ who broke his nose! How could you, especially since he's your _last_ chance at being a respectable Burg girl?! I raised you better than to assault good, upstanding citizens, such as Joseph. What will the neighbors think? Do you even care what your uncivilized behavior means for me? You're lucky he's kind enough not to press charges! Irma also said that you turned him down, again. Stephanie, you cannot be so rude, contrary and picky. Joseph is a good man and comes from a respected family and he's willing to put up with you and your… children, which is more than their father can say. Why me? I-beeep". I'd heard enough and just deleted that drivel. My mother would never change. She'd always be more worried about appearances rather than right or wrong or being true to herself.

I hate to admit it, but there's a tiny part of me that hopes against hope that one day I'll check my voicemails and it will be my mother just checking in to see how the raspberries and I are doing, just because she cares. No yelling, comments about how I'm ruining my and my children' lives, demands that I clip my wings and conform to a less than mediocre existence or cavils about what the neighbor's will think. Despite everything, I'm still holding out for that gesture of acceptance even though deep down I know there's no point.

She is who she is, and I am who I am and we're at an impasse. At least I'm proud of who I've become, that and the solace Serafina and Theo bring me afford me peace to accept things as they are. With that last thought, I let sleep lull me like a siren into the void.

* * *

A/N: So I've realized now that despite my crazy outlining to make sure that both the mystery and the relationships/personal growth parts of the story end in tandem, the beginning/intro part of the story (Part I) is a bit less interesting/exciting than the rest of the story. I apologize for this, but I implore you to stick with it and keep reading. I promise that we'll be getting to the exciting part as soon as I can make it happen! (And in the meantime, the flashbacks give some important history on the characters' backgrounds.)

Thank you for your continued support and for taking the time to read (and occasionally review)!


	4. Chapter 3: Part 1

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thanks to all of you who've been reading this and to those who've favorited/followed/reviewed. I appreciate your time and feedback and I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I've enjoyed imagining and writing it.

I know I went the cliched 'Helen Plum is the worst', but she makes such a great hatable character and focal point for family drama, I couldn't help myself.

Also, I had uploading problems again so this chapter is in two parts. (Please PM me if you have and suggestions as to why it won't let me upload more than like a few hundred words at a time and times out most of the time and gets to where it won't let me add any words... super fun times.)

 **Part I. "A man, when he WISHes, is the master of his fate." - Jose Ferrer**

 **Chapter 3 – Part 1**

* * *

 **SP POV - 08 APR 2015**

I took a few uninterrupted moments to appreciate the warmth of Duncan's office. The soothing cucumber water hued walls were interrupted by a large window overlooking downtown Newark and two sturdy bookcases filled with legal reference volumes, diplomas and tchotchkes. The tan tiles with sepia striations complemented the broad, antique oak desk which was neither pristine nor cluttered with a hastily stacked pile of folders and papers, a laptop, several partially used yellow legal pads and a handful of pens and highlighters. I was seated in one of the taupe office chairs facing his currently unoccupied desk chair. I was shown into his office by his secretary, Karen, with a promise that Duncan would be with me in five minutes. It had been closer to 15 but I didn't have the heart to bring it up with the seventy year-old woman who had been a fixture in the office since the firm was first founded over forty years ago.

Duncan Prince was a highly successful corporate lawyer that I had hired to manage all legal matters for w*ish per the rave reviews Victoria gave him after she brought him onboard at Slade Suites. So far, he's kept my concerns and goals at the forefront and given me solid advice. We were meeting today to finalize the contracts for the w*ish franchise boutique location owners. We had gone back and forth discussing everything from what the w*ish license fees would be to how strictly conformity between each location's aesthetics would be monitored to how much merchandise should be stocked on hand. I was fairly certain that between the two of us, with occasional input from Camilla and Tucker, the final draft, which we were scheduled to review today, would be perfect. If only we could get it started!

I figured I'd save us both some time and brave the clutter on his desk to find the w*ish contract and start to look over it. I stood up and leaned over the desk while sifting cautiously through the pile of folders and papers when a note he'd jotted down on his legal pad caught my eye. In the margin of some notes he'd doodled 'Date Ideas 4: VS'. Oh my gosh, I thought excitedly, trying not to make too much noise while doing a stifled version of my happy dance, Duncan was _finally_ going to ask out Victoria! She was going to be crazy ecstatic! Hmmm, I wonder what ideas he'd brainstormed to woo her? After the build-up, it'd better be mindblowingly good! I continued reading his note out of obligation to my friend. It was my _duty_ to not let Duncan bomb this and I was just doing what any good friend would do in a similar situation. I started reading the list and couldn't help cringing, every idea was worse than the previous one! It started out okay, boring, but okay with 'Dinner and a Movie' but then it got more and more desperate with pottery class, paintball, comedy club and mini-golf. It seems like he wanted to skip to the we're-dating-and-now-we-do-tons-of-adorable-things-together stage, which is great and Victoria will definitely be down for that, but just because they've known each other for years doesn't mean they can skip the super important let's-get-to-know-each-other-and-build-a-strong-foundation bit. She will most definitely _insist_ on that because she wants them to last. I was still contemplating whether to append my own suggestions to the end of Duncan's list when he barreled into the office.

"Hey Steph, I'm sorry for running late! I was sitting in on a meeting that just wouldn't end because the client needed way too much coddling. I finally had to sneak out of there," he explained rapidly as he gave me a quick hug and circled the desk to take his seat. He was wearing a custom tailored navy blue suit with a white shirt and lighter blue and gray diagonally striped tie. "So, you ready to go over the updated w*ish satellite location contracts?" he asked, flipping through a few folders before handing me a thick, stapled bundle of papers. His gaze was firmly settled on me from behind his trendy black frames and the bit of brown hair that had tumbled over his forehead.

I reached out automatically to take and start flipping through the contract, my mind still focused on better first date ideas and how I could give them to him without him knowing I'd snooped. Stupid curiosity!

"So…" Duncan continued once it was clear that I was not going to be participating in the conversation for the time being, "I attached sticky notes to the sections that have changed per our previous meeting and I think you'll be very satisfied with the results. Why don't you just- Steph? Stephanie!"

Duncan's cry startled me from my musings enough to vocalize them, "You _cannot_ take Victoria 'I went to three cotillions' Slade paintballing on a first date. You just can't, I won't let you!" My outburst was followed by shocked silence from both myself and Duncan, each of us starting at the other, my blush getting steadily heavier as I fully realized what I'd just done. "Oh fu-f-fudge!," I stuttered, glad that at least my self-imposed anti-cussing programing for the raspberries was holding, "I'm sorry Duncan, I didn't mean to snoop, it's just that you've been circling each other for _so_ lo-"

"You read my notes?!", a look of shocked betrayal settling into his features. "Stephanie! I know we're friends, but that is _way_ over the line!"

"I know! I know and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I just glanced at it and then I knew what it was and I was _so_ excited," I explained in a rush with frantic hand gestures, "you two were _finally_ going to be taking this step forwards and I got excited and nosy and then… then… well then I _saw_ it, your list of ideas and they are _bad_ , Duncan, like _super_ bad," I explained in a scandalized tone, "and I couldn't let you tank with Vic, since you're like _perfect_ for each other, so I was trying to figure out a way to help you come up with something better because… no, just no. But, you're right, I shouldn't have snooped and if you don't want my advice, it's cool. I mean, at least your ideas aren't as bad as taking her to a family reunion barbecue where you realize that you both share a cousin _after_ you've fooled around a little."

"Huh, what? Ew Steph!" Duncan replied when he finally caught up with everything I'd said, disgust twisting his classically handsome features.

"Hey! _Calista's_ the kissing cousin, not me! My worst date was at a Halloween party, he came dressed as a clown," I shuddered at the memory, "and I just couldn't. Word of advice, you can't terrify your date then wonder why she won't call you back."

"Noted," Duncan stated, with a frustrated look on his face as he debated something internally. Finally, he let out an exaggerated huff and gave me a chastising look, "Stephanie, you can't accidentally read my notes, _ever_ again. It could have been confidential client information or case information and that is unacceptable, okay?"

"Absolutely, and I'm really really sorry. Never again," I promised with a solemn nod.

"Alright, so, I guess we should get back to the w*ish contract…" he added, running a hand roughly through his side-parted hair.

I looked at him incredulously, was he going to ignore the whole pending train-wreck of a date? He couldn't be serious, right?

" _Or_ …" he added with feigned nonchalance.

"Or, _definitely_ or! In this case, _or_ pick something more Vic's speed," I replied swiftly.

"Hey, I thought that's what I was doing! Vic loves learning and discovering new things, hence the pottery class and comedy club. And I don't want just boring dinner and a movie, I want something memorable where we can really get to know each other while we spend time together," he huffed at my critiquing.

"You're right, but you and Vic are not get-down-and-dirty on a date type people, well not _literally_ down and dirty," I corrected at his smirk. "She's not gonna be cool with sweating or being heckled on your date, she's gonna want to wear heels and a dress and knock your socks off with her hotness," I explained. How was this not obvious to him? Men!

"Okay, I suppose you're right," he agreed after thinking through my opinion. "So where do you think I should take her? I want someplace where we can do something, not just the same old tired date night routine,"

"Hmm… well, what about going into New York City? It's not too far and you guys already know each other so you'd be able to come up with things to talk about on the drive. There wouldn't be any awkward silences or anything," I suggested as I tried to rack my mind for any clues Victoria may have dropped over the past few months.

"Okay, NYC sounds good, but what do we do there?"

Suddenly, I remember a drunken Victoria waxing poetic about an episode of _The Bachelor_ , a guilty pleasure she swears she only indulges in after particularly stressful weeks, in which the contestants went on a cooking class date that was surprisingly fun and flirty. "Well… she once mentioned something about taking a couples cooking class, and I'm pretty sure there are a lot of options in the city. After you could maybe do something a little cheesy but that she'll find romantic like going on a carriage ride or walk through Central Park," I suggested, suddenly appreciating the fact that Victoria enjoyed somewhat clichéd, romantic crap.

"Isn't that a little on the nose?" he queried.

"Naw, I think it'll be the perfect blend between slightly cheesy and romantic. She'll love it," I assured him.

"Okay, I'll set it up. Thanks Steph," he said with an endearing, dimpled smile, "so, I guess we should get back to that contract, huh?"

"Or…" I replied, hoping he would get the hint while I drummed my fingers along his desk.

"Or what, Steph? We have work to do," he replied, confused.

"Or you could call Vic, now, and ask her out," I countered, not trusting him to follow through in a timely manner if left him to his own devices.

"I'm not asking her out with _you_ here, Nosy Nelly!" he exclaimed, annoyed at my overbearing attitude, "besides, we need to go over that contract."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll get to that! I just, I'm not sure I _trust_ you to make the call. You've had years and this is the first I've heard of you even _thinking_ of taking initiative," I explained.

"You're really not gonna let us get anything done until I call, huh?" he clarified, pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut in frustration.

"Nope," I said cheekily while I planted my pink sheath dress clad rear on the edge of his desk, I picked up his office phone and handed him the receiver with an expectant look. After a few seconds wasted trying to resist, Duncan looked up at the ceiling, shook his head and capitulated.

* * *

 **Frank Plum POV - 09 APR 2015**

"I'll see you in a few hours Frank," Sal Baptiste said, handing me his fare and exiting my cab. Sal was a friend from the lodge who I met while working at the post office for the past thirty years. When I bragged to him about how Steph and my new grandchildren were living in Newark and that I'd be going to Newark a few times a month to visit, he asked me to drive him up as well to see some ex-Navy friends of his. It worked out great for me, I made a little cash and got to spend some time with Serafina and Theo. And my Pumpkin, of course.

I nodded goodbye to Sal and drove further into town to meet Stephanie at her Mommy and Me class. _Personally_ , I thought a lot of this new age bonding stuff was crap, but it made her happy and got me out of the house. I never really felt the need to escape my house until recently. First it was Edna moving in with us after my father-in-law passed and unleashing 70 years of repressed crazy at every chance she got; then it was Helen becoming increasingly prickly, critical and whiny. I suppose between work and the constant chatter of our girls, Valerie and Stephanie, I'd never noticed how judgmental and prone to nagging Helen was.

Recently though, it was all I noticed about her. I didn't see how immaculately she kept our home, or how she went out of her way to prepare delicious meals, or how she strove to ensure we had full lives filled with family and friends. All I could see was how she treated Stephanie, how she pettily punished her because Stephanie dared to live her life by her own rules without any concern for the hypocritical and outdated mores of the Burg.

Today Helen was harping on the same topics as most other days: why was she the only good Burg woman whose grandchildren are born out of wedlock, why did her daughter deliberately embarrass her by turning down the only eligible man who's expressed interest in her, and why was she kept in the dark about her daughter's personal life decisions. Although recently she's started adding in how my maintaining a relationship with Stephanie and the twins independent of her is undermining her authority and efforts to get her married and settled. I couldn't care less. Stephanie and the twins are happy, financially secure and healthy, what more could I ask for? Personally, I was proud that Stephanie didn't capitulate to Helen or the Burg busybodies.

Sometimes I noticed a little sadness in her eyes, as if despite her full, happy life she did wish for something… more in her life. And despite the fact that I know Stephanie is an amazing mother and those two angels won't want for anything, ever, I can't help but wish they had a father and she had the support of a partner in her life. Sure, they had men in their lives, father figures such as me and that Lester Santos, Tank Sherman and the one with the terrifying teardrop tattoos on his face, to name a few, but it isn't quite the same as having a Daddy. I want Serafina and Theo to have everything, the same as I want for Valerie and Stephanie, and having been raised with traditional values that lauded the nuclear family model, I can't help but hope that eventually Serafina and Theo's family will be whole. If only I could track him down and talk some sense into him… but it wasn't what Stephanie wanted and she made sure I wouldn't be able to do anything rash.

It was part of the reason I made such an effort to spend time with the twins. That and the fact that Theo was my first grandson and I had a greater connection with Stephanie than I'd ever shared with Valerie. Growing up, Valerie was always busy molding herself into a perfect little cooking, cleaning clone of Helen, whereas Stephanie was busy skinning her knees playing at the park and letting me teach her how to change the oil in my 1992 Buick Century.

I pulled into the crowded parking lot just as Stephanie was parking. I rushed over to help her pull the twins out of their carseats. "Hi Steph," I greeted her, leaning in so she could kiss my cheek, "hand over my grandson, would you?" I asked before giving him a tight hug. I just couldn't seem to get enough of his or his sister's adorableness and the way my heart swelled with bliss and pride when I saw or bragged about them.

"Ready to head in?" she asked as we ambled towards the Mommy and Me class with Serafina tightly cradled on her hip and the diaper bag slung over her opposite shoulder.

"Bye-bye! Bye-bye!" Serafina squealed in excitement at seeing where we were headed.

"Sure thing Pumpkin," I replied with a laugh, tousling Serafina's hair that was restrained by a sequined, stretchy band as we headed into the air-conditioned building with our precious cargo.

* * *

 **Frank Plum POV - 17 MAR 2014**

"Baby granddaughter! What brings you by?" I could hear Edna ask after opening the door.

I was excited to have Stephanie visit us. She used to come a few times a month when she lived in Trenton; she'd spend some time eating, share stories from her crazy life and take Edna off our hands and out of the house for a few, blissful hours. I hadn't realized how much her presence meant in my day-to-day life until she moved to Newark a few months ago. Since then, I've come to appreciate her rare visits and the brief respite they provide from Helen's constant tippling while whining about Stephanie's individuality and Edna's latest scheme to trap a man.

"I just wanted to talk to you three about something, I'm sorry I couldn't make it earlier in time for dinner," Stephanie replied. I could hear her come in and shake loose snow off herself before ambling into the house.

Stephanie and Edna walked into the living room, Stephanie came over to give me a quick hug and kiss after placing a pastry box on the scuffed, oak coffee table while Edna went into the kitchen, I assumed to roust Helen.

"So Pumpkin, what brings you by?" I asked, sparing her a quick glance from my periphery while I continued to watch my television programs. I know I tended to get a little over-invested in it, but it was part of my daily routine to destress after work and be sure to stay out of Helen's way as she prepared dinner and raised our daughters. Now it kept me sane and provided me an escape from my life.

"I… I have some news that I wanted to share in person," she explained, fidgeting in her seat, straightening her well-tailored jeans, sweater and patterned scarf. Stephanie was always composed, despite the situation or amount of pressure she was under. It's why she was successful at everything she pursued and never balked no matter what challenge she faced. Yet whatever it was she stopped by to share had her nervous. Almost as nervous as when she came to tell us she was pregnant.

I switched off the television and shifted in my well-worn, leather recliner to face Stephanie. "Pumpkin, is everything alright?"

"Oh Daddy, yes. Good news. Or at least I think so, and I think _you_ will too," she assured, with a misty grin.

Before she could explain any further, Helen, trailing Edna, traipsed into the living room to join us. "Stephanie, why haven't you returned any of my calls over the past few weeks? You can't just share that you're pregnant and then up and leave! That is _not_ how I raised you, missy!" Helen criticized.

"Mom, I'm sorry I haven't called back, I've been swamped with work and from our conversation and all of the… heated messages you left I figured it would be best for us to take some time apart so neither of us said anything we'd truly regret," Stephanie explained crisply. "I know you're disappointed and I'm sorry, but nothing is going to change that I'm pregnant and am going to be raising these two by myself," she explained, her hands clasped over her slight baby bump.

"That is _unacceptable_! _Everything_ you've done since you divorced Dickie has been unacceptable! I'm just trying to help you, to make you better. _Why_ won't you understand that?" she pleaded haughtily.

"Helen! Stephanie came to share some news with us and she'd be able to if you'd quit harping for one second! Sheesh!" Edna interrupted Helen's tirade. Helen huffed out a noisy breath and plopped into the chair across from Stephanie with her arms crossed over her chest and her nose raised firmly in the air. "Ignore her, baby granddaughter," Edna advised, patting Stephanie on the knee while she sat next to her on our floral print sofa after rearranging the throw pillows to get comfortable. "So, what's the scoop?" Edna asked with a mischievous glimmer in her eye. She was probably hoping for the first crack at some new gossip to spread around the Clip 'n Curl. Crazy old bat.

"So, I had a doctor's appointment earlier this week and I asked to know the sexes of the babies," Stephanie explained with excitement she tried to tamp down as Helen glared indifferently at her. I couldn't help holding my breath in anticipation; I'd been through this twice already with Val's girls and while I loved them, I was really hoping for a grandson this time around. Someone I could teach things to, like fly fishing and how to build a campfire.

"And?" Edna prodded.

"And, one's a little camera shy but the other one is definitely a boy!" she trumpeted, opening the box of pastries to reveal cookies that were topped with half blue and half blue and pink striped icing.

"Really? A _grandson_?" I asked, floored with excitement while Edna demanded details and expressed her glee. Stephanie set about answering our questions as we each grabbed a cookie and ignored Helen who was seething and glaring at Stephanie.

"I'm going to teach him how to fish and play football an-" I was gushing to Stephanie around a mouthfull of cookie when Helen decided she couldn't keep her comments to herself any longer.

"Stephanie, you need to call Joseph, _now_. I insist," Helen interjected calmly, though there was fire in her eyes and a tightness in her voice.

"Wha-what? Joseph who? Why?" she asked, confusion stamped across her face.

"Joseph Morelli, of course. I ran into him a few weeks ago at Giovanni's when I was picking up some sausage and he was asking about you. He doesn't know about your… _condition_ ," she spit out as if Stephanie's pregnancy was some sort of affliction, "but I'm confident that with some adjustment on your part, he could be convinced to marry you despite… _that_ ," Helen explained, gesturing towards Stephanie's stomach.

"I-no, ugh-what?!" Stephanie blubbered, standing up with her hands protectively laced in front of her stomach, "you can't possibly be saying what I think you're saying!"

"You're pregnant for chrissake, you need to grow up and be responsible! All children need fathers, _especially_ boys!" Helen shouted while glaring at Stephanie from her seat.

"And you think Joey Morelli, notorious womanizer, would be willing to play house with Stephanie? Pfft!" Edna exclaimed, standing up and hooking a bony arm around Stephanie's waist in support.

"Well, it's not like the kids' father is willing to step up and raise them! At least we know Joseph is a good, a _Burg_ man," Helen countered, her jaw jutting out stubbornly, arms crossed.

"Funny," Stephanie bit out sardonically, "when I was younger Joe was the scourge of the Burg and I was warned to stay away from him. Now he's husband material? I wouldn't trust Joe to change a diaper unsupervised, I'd _never_ trust him with my or my children's futures."

"Stop being stubborn, short-sighted and selfish, your son _deserves_ a father. Do you have another solution?" Helen demanded.

"I-I know my children need father figures, and that's why I have Daddy and close friends that I trust to provide that direction and guidance," Stephanie explained confidently though her voice warbled as she fidgeted with her scarf.

"That's not enough! And just because those thugs were your friends while you were working with them doesn't mean they want to stick around and help with your kids. It's not like one of them is stepping up an-" Helen argued.

"Enough! I have made my decision and me telling you about the pregnancy and coming here today was just me sharing my good news with my family, who's _supposed_ to love me and be happy for me," Stephanie interjected. "I'd be touched if I thought you were truly concerned for your grandchildren's well being, but I'm pretty sure you're more worried about gossip. You should remember, _I'm_ a mother too now, and I get to make parenting decisions however I see fit."

"You tell her baby granddaughter! Besides, I really don't think you, of all people, want to get into a discussion about criticizing people's parenting choices, Helen, because that street goes _two ways_ ," Edna added, her firetruck red curls bobbing as she jabbed her finger at Helen.

"Joseph has grown up and matured significantly since he joined the police department and he said he's always thought of you as the one who got away. Just go ou-" Helen pressed on, undeterred by Stephanie and Edna.

"Stop, Helen. That's _enough_ ," I interjected, standing up and aligning myself with Stephanie and Edna. "It was bad enough that you stopped me from taking action against Morelli when Steph was 16 because you thought it would be better for Stephanie to just move forward. But since the last man that earned your seal of approval for Steph was that no-good scum Orr, I'd say you _never_ get to weigh in on Steph's dating life again, you've lost the right." I was on a roll and I couldn't seem to stop all of the things that had been building up for the past several years. Stephanie just came to share that we were going to have our first grandson and Helen couldn't let her bask in that happiness for even two minutes. Somehow, despite Helen's best efforts, my daughter was a strong, independent woman who always did things in her own, unique way. I wish Helen would just learn to appreciate that about Stephanie instead of trying to smother the individuality out of her. "Now, I don't want to hear anymore talk about Morelli, marriage or anything other than my first grandson and other future grandchild!"

"Then I suppose I have nothing left to say," Helen huffed before heading into the kitchen while mumbling under her breath.

"Ignore her, your Mother will come around once she realizes what a wonderful mother you're going to be," Edna assured Stephanie as we each settled into our seats once again. "So, when will we find out if the shyer twin is gonna be a girl or a boy?"

Stephanie and Edna immediately started gushing about the twins, their excitement only slightly damped by Helen's outburst. I smiled and nodded along as they discussed things from the next ultrasound to decorating the nursery while I imagined all of the fun things I would do once the twins were finally born. My first grandson! My skin almost prickled in anticipation and I wasn't sure I'd be able to wait another several months to meet him.

I secretly hoped the other twin was a girl who Stephanie could spoil and build up into a mini-wonder woman, ready to take on the world, golden lasso and all. My Pumpkin would raise strong, independent children who embraced their individuality, and I couldn't wait to see what kind of trouble the two of them would get into!

* * *

 **SP POV - 09 APR 2015**

Daddy and I were helping Theo and Serafina do a little stretching. They were laid on their backs on their respective grass green and daisy yellow blankets while we helped bend and extend their adorable, pudgy limbs. We were in a room catered to encouraging children's imagination with its colorful, foam-puzzle mat, space and forest-themed wall murals and an assortment of 'educational' toys.

"Alright everyone, we're gonna start with a little dancercise! Mommies, Daddy and Grandpa," Patricia Lattimer said, shooting my father a quick smile and straightening her plastic, red rimmed glasses, "time to get your groove on," she added much to my father's chagrin, turning on a CD of nursery rhymes with musical accompaniment. "Please help your little ones stand if they're 10 or more months." Patricia held a doctorate in early childhood development and had founded Get Ahead, an infant and toddler education and development center, 22 years ago. Her patient handling of the minor panic attack I experienced while asking her questions about the classes she provided led us to bonding instantly. She was a font of information and had a tough yet sunny disposition that I looked forward to every Thursday.

I snuck a look at Daddy who joined me for one of these classes each month. He pretended to by annoyed with dancercise, his proclaimed least favorite of our Mommy and Me activities, although secretly, I think he loved every second of his time with Theo, even if it was while instructing him on the finer points of disco. Yup, _disco_. Daddy was old school like that. It made me feel a bit more trendy as I helped Serafina do the hand motions for Beyonce's _Single Ladies_ , knowledge that was garnered as the result of a pitcher of sangria and a girls' night in with Calista and Victoria several years ago.

The twins and I had been a part of this class since they were 6-months old because I was worried about socializing them correctly. Between w*ish and single parenting, I didn't have a lot of time to set up playdates for them with other children and only one of my friends, Mary Lou, even had kids. Unfortunately, while our kids had fun together, their age span was as diverse as their interests, her's being interested in soccer and t-ball and mine being interested in, well, crawling and teething toys.

Fortunately, the twins and I were able to make friends at Mommy and Me. None of us were besties, per say, but we got together for the occasional picnic or birthday party and the twins learned that they weren't the only bundles of adorableness in the world. I was closest to Gargi Dev, mother of Abhishek who was about a month younger than the twins and had two older sisters. Gargi worked from home as an Indian classical dance teacher and was married to a physician. They were sitting next to Hannah, the 6-month old daughter of Courtney Unger, was adorable with her strawberry blonde dusting of hair and dimples. Courtney was a very down-to-earth and typical stay at home mom who was married to an investment banker. Unfortunately he was generally too busy to participate in our classes, outings or the lives of Hannah or his 4 and 5 year old sons. My final ally at Mommy and Me was Amelia Vaughn, mother of another 6-month old, Jackson. She was a single mom, English Professor and had a similarly disapproving mother but with a Welsh family background. Needless to say we had a lot to commiserate about.

The token trophy wife in our group was Trisha who was married to Chester Bishop, a _much_ older, highly sought after, criminal defense attorney. Their daughter Daisy, was a 12-month diva in the making with her Dolce  & Gabbana paisley dress, Gucci sequined shoes and Dior cross-body bag. I would've loved to hate Trisha, she was the mom who managed to get back to her pre-baby weight within a few meager weeks and rocked bodycon dresses and five-inch heels as her version of pregnancy chic, but she was so cluelessly sweet, you couldn't help but like her. She was like a puppy who kept chasing its shadow, determined to catch it. Besides, Trisha, with her ditzy vapidness and surgically enhanced bimbo boobs, was infinitely preferable to Vera Monroe who owned a high-end gallery in Newark and was married to an equally high-brow businessman, both from old money. When I first joined the class, she was quick to judge me as a single mother in over her head and labeled the twins riffraff she would never let her _precious_ 13-month old Peter associate with. Of course, the about-botoxed-face she executed when she realized I was the proprietor and designer of w*ish must've given her whiplash and annoyed me even more than her initial dismissal.

Our coterie was rounded out by Bradley Ames: single father, incorrigible flirt, and executive chef at Bon Vivant, home of haute French cuisine. His look-a-like son Parker mirrored his father's side-swept honey hued hair, hazel eyes and rounded tummy and was a few weeks younger than the twins. I was convinced the three of them had an ongoing competition to see who could generate the largest mess on finger painting days.

"Mr. Plum, it's nice to see you again," Gargi greeted Daddy from across the circle while helping Abhishek do some rather complicated dance steps while adeptly preventing him from pulling on her thick, dark plait.

"It's nice to spend time with little Theodore here, he and his sister always make my day. Although I could do with less dancing," Daddy grunted reply was belied by his smile at Theo's jerky dancing.

"Enjoy it while you can, soon they'll be walking and thinking they're all grown up," Courtney warned with a laugh while stopping Hannah from scoot-dancing her blue, polka-dotted tush away.

"I am _so_ not ready for that. I just want Daisy to stay this little and adorable forever," Trisha added, "it's like having a real-life doll!"

"I don't know, I'm excited for Parker to be a toddler so we can do more than nap-time and crawling together," Bradley added. "Although, I'd love to get together for a little nap-time play-date, if any of you are interested?" he said, tossing a flirty wink my way. Unfortunately for him, Daddy also saw it and sent him a rather impressive glare. Even growing up, his protective dad side only really came out when boys were involved. It's part of the reason he didn't mind when I accidentally clipped Joe Morelli with Big Blue, Grandma Mazur's indestructible 1953 Buick in retaliation to him skipping town for the Navy and leaving me to be slut-shamed for the remainder of my tenure at Trenton Central High School.

"Aren't women supposed to love men who can cook?," Daddy mumbled to me. "Then why is this stonzo (Italian: asshole) trying to pick up women at Mommy and Me?" he continued after I nodded absentmindedly.

"Daddy, _language_!" I whisper chastised to which he replied with an unrepentant gaze that broke into a smirk when Theo and Serafina started laughing at my shocked expression.

"Okay guys, let's move onto some coloring," Patricia announced, circling the room to hand out supplies. When she got to us, she said, "Sono d'accordo con la vostra valutazione, ma in realtà dovrebbe guardare quello che dici di fronte ai bambini (Italian: I agree with your assessment, but you really should watch what you say in front of children)," under her breath, earning a smug smirk from me and a very rare blush infused shock from my father.

* * *

A/N: All translations were provided by Google Translate.


	5. Chapter 3: Part 2

A/N: This is the second part of Chapter 3, **be sure to go back and read Chapter 3 - Part 1**. Sorry for the confusion, I'm hoping FanFiction support get's back to me soon..

* * *

 **Part I. "A man, when he WISHes, is the master of his fate." - Jose Ferrer**

 **Chapter 3 – Part 1**

 **SP POV - 09 APR 2015**

"Hey Steph, how's it goin'?" Gianna Rosolli's thick, Jersey accent greeted me as I entered her family-run real estate office. Gianna was married to Connie's cousin Luigi, related via her father's side which meant they were family and not Family. It sounds the same, but makes a _huge_ difference. Lucky for me, Gianna was very plugged in as a realtor and willing to give me the friends and family discount as long as I got her a few early samples of nymph*ish. Apparently she and Luigi were leaving Luigi Junior with her parents and escaping to a second honeymoon and she was very excited, especially since she _may_ have been five-months pregnant during their first honeymoon.

"Great, I'm excited to get started," I replied, folding myself into one of the worn, tan chairs facing her desk. "Did you get the email I sent you about security preferences?" I figured it would be easier to just send her the list of security concerns and requirements Tank had compiled for me so I didn't accidentally fall in love with a property I wouldn't be able to have.

"Yeah, it was… thorough, but I found a few places that fit all your needs anyways," Gianna replied, tapping the small stack of papers on my side of the laminate covered desk, each detailing a different home available for sale, with her almond-shaped, pink and silver reverse-french manicure. "Seriously though, you expectin' trouble, because some of those requirements were a _bit_ much."

I just shrugged in response as I flipped through the listings she'd vetted. Fortunately they all boasted good school districts, access to places we went often, enough room for our little family to thrive, reasonable prices, low crime rates and, of course, were easy to secure. I quickly made a pile of the houses that seemed like us, the twins and I, and handed it to Gianna. "These are the one's that I feel would be the best fit. Do you think I'd be able to move in by the end of May? Because I'd really like the have the new house all put together in time for the twins' first birthday."

"Definitely," she assured me after flipping through my choices, "and if you have those buff RangeMen Connie's always blabbing about help moving all your stuff, I'll bring some lemonade over to help with the big move," she added with a sassy wink. I guess she and Connie had more in common than giant Jersey hair and plump, curvy bodies.

"So, where to first?" I queried with a giggle as we gathered our purses.

"Oh, we're gonna start with the best one," she answered confidently, holding the glass, embossed door open for me to follow her to her company Camry, "you're gonna _love_ it."

Four-ish miles and twenty-eight minutes later, it was official: I did _not_ love it. We were at an art deco monstrosity, with it's forest green shutters, unnecessarily curved walls and hypnotizingly patterned carpets. Gianna could tell from my lack of enthusiasm that her 'best one' was falling seriously short and decided to approach the issue head on.

"Steph, what's wrong? I thought you liked the look of this place but you look like I did when my mother-in-law tried convincing me that kale was the new lettuce. It's not, it's crap that you _never_ finish chewing," she said, hands resting on her hips while she leveled me with her tell-me-the-truth-because-I'll-know-if-you-lie mom look. I'm _pretty_ sure it was her super-power.

"It's just… too much. I want a more homey home with simple, clean lines, not something that seems like uncomfortable art or is too traditional and old-school," I explained. "I like statement jewelry or shoes, not so much a statement house."

"Mhmm, okay. So, you want more of a contemporary or mid-century modern with a craftsman feel and we should stay away from art deco, obviously, as well as colonials, victorians and townhouses," Gianna summarized. "There are a few in our selections that sorta fit what you described, but I think I was thinking house for fashionista and got a little carried away. We may have to schedule another date to go house hunting once I've had a chance to pull up a more catered set of listings."

"Okay, that sounds good. And sorry for being so undecided about this. I've only ever lived in apartments and I was mostly focused on pragmatic details like cost, size and location. I think the magnitude of buying my first house is getting to me."

"No problem Steph, escrow makes everyone a little nervous," she assured me with a sympathetic smile. "We'll find something perfect for your family, trust me," she added, paring down our stack of listing potentials as we headed back into the balmy New Jersey day to hopefully find something that better reflected the vague images in my mind of home.

* * *

 **SP POV - 09 APR 2015**

I had put the twins to bed after a very rowdy round of bath-time, a quick reading of _Goodnight Moon_ by Margaret Wise and a little (okay a lot) of cuddling. Now I was tucked into my dining table while looking through and whittling down the list of applications for potential w*ish franchise owners. I was doing my best goldilocks impression, removing people from the list of potentials for being too inexperienced, too desperate housewife-y, too elitist, too bad at managing their personal finances, too dead-beat parent-y, too lacking in an undergraduate degree, too optimistic about what their references would say, and so on.

I figured as long as I was busy but not too engaged, I might as well return my mother's message from two days ago. Calls to my mother didn't actually require any active participation on my part, more just absentminded listening to her rant and tossing in a 'mhmm' every once in a while. Thus it was the perfect time to multitask and get some housework or paperwork done. Besides, I would like a better relationship with her one day, at least for the sake of Serafina and Theo. They deserve to have a doting grandmother in their lives, the same as Valerie's children. And this well intentioned decision led to one of the most contentious conversations we'd ever had.

After a few rings, the phone was answered by my mother's simpering, lilting tone, "Plum residence, Helen speaking," ever the prim housewife.

"Hey Ma, it's me, I was just calling to return your message and check in," I responded while perusing the application of a Honor Forrester whose previous positions included nude modeling for an art class, rising from sales person to assistant manager at a Coach store, and event and wedding planning. Honor was going in the maybe pile, if she handled bridezillas for half a decade, she had definite potential.

"Yes, well. I just wanted to tell you again how _disappointed_ I am that you continue to refuse to give Joseph a chance. I just don't understand why you won't. You can't possibly think you could do better and I know you don't have any other prospects sniffing about. I can only conclude that you've let your precarious success with your… _unmentionables_ shop inflate your ego and distort your sense of reality," my mother harped without pausing to take a breath.

"Mom, I don't want to talk about Morelli, not now, not ever. There is and never will be anything between us, you need to move past it," I said shortly, trying to reign in my frustration and hoping the twitching in my eye that her opprobrium caused would subside soon.

"Yes well, despite Joseph being the best offer you could hope for, there are a few other eligible Burg bachelors," she continued thoughtfully, without faltering at my obvious disapproval of this line of conversation, "I was talking to Mildred Kuntz the other day after Mass and she said her son, you know Bernie who owns the appliance and electronics store, was looking to settle down, she said his biological clock is ticking."

Ugh, no thank you Mother dearest. In high school, Bernie was a sweaty, socially awkward kid who was suspended for watching fetish porn in the computer lab, _during_ computer class. "Mom, I'm not interested. Between work and the twins, my life is full. I don't need a man," I replied, adding "definitely not that one," under my breath. "And I don't want any more kids, so Bernie's gonna have to look elsewhere for a baby-oven," I snarked.

"Stephanie!" my mother exclaimed, aghast. I was just glad she couldn't see me roll my eyes or she'd have something more to complain about. "So, you _do_ prefer Joseph!"

"No! Besides, the grapevine managed the miss the fact that good ol' Joe Morelli called my children, _your_ grandchildren, brats and another b-word I won't repeat. He's _not_ suitable husband and father material, not to me," I asserted vehemently.

"Hmmm, well… perhaps you're right, Joseph may be a good man, but because of the choices _you've_ made, he just isn't the man for you," my mother concluded. And in true Helen Plum form, she blamed me for the horrible, unacceptable things he said and opinions he held. Interesting to know that Ms. Manners only finds fault in me.

"Thanks Mom, I'm glad to know where your loyalties lie," I quipped. I guess wanting a better relationship with my mother was much easier than finding the will to stomach the required kowtowing to have said relationship.

"You know, you've changed since you met those thugs you call security specialists, and _not_ for the better. You don't listen to what I say anymore, you've turned your back on the ideals you were raised by and you _never_ have time for your family anymore. I've done _everything_ for you, Val and your father and all I ask is that you get and stay married to a good man, show up for Friday night dinner and help wrangle your grandmother in and occasionally chauffeur her to Clip 'n Curl and Stiva's Funeral Home," she criticized.

"And I suppose Val does all of those things, huh? Or is she exempt from the guilt-trips and being your own personal errand boy because she was always the golden child?" I voiced an opinion that I had so far managed to keep to myself. I guess the stress of being a business owner and single-parenting was loosening my mouth a bit.

"You and Val are _nothing_ alike, she's _married_ to the father of her children and lives in reality rather than chasing dreams grandeur that are bound to fail. You could learn a lot from your sister," she bit back.

"Like what, Ma? Baking the perfect meatloaf? Morphing into a Stepford Wife? Oh wait, I know what it is, turning a blind eye to philandering?" Crap, I thought, I knew the second I said it I'd gone too far. It didn't matter that I knew that deep down Val and my Mother knew it was true, it wasn't something to callously throw in someone's face. Especially to someone who thought trying to seduce the philanderer or trap him with another child was an acceptable solution.

"She isn't exempt, I expect and want the same things for both of you. What you could learn from her, though, is trust. _Trust_ that I know what is best for you. _Trust_ that there are things I _deserve_ to know and decisions I have the right to be apart of in my children' lives," she retorted acerbically.

And there it was. The issue that had caused the most recent and likely insurmountable rift between us. Sure, she was mad I chose to have children out of wedlock and disappointed that I was a bad mother by choosing to have a high-powered career rather than stay at home or have a nine-to-five, dead end job at the button factory. But those were things she was convinced I'd eventually come around to her way of thinking on. The not trusting her and keeping my own council, that she could _never_ forgive. Especially once the neighbors started weighing in.

"Mom, we've been over this. It's in the past and I _do_ trust you with the important things. I trust you to be in my _children's lives_ , that is the biggest show of trust I could give anyone, _ever_. And instead of focusing on what's important, focusing on Serafina and Theodore, you're choosing to get hung up on your pride and gossip. Just focus on loving Serafina and Theodore," I implored, hoping against hope that today would be the day she'd finally see things my way.

My request was met with several moments of silence and slight sniffling. "It's not that easy, Stephanie, and it's up to _you_ to make it right," she replied with a bitter laugh before hanging up.

* * *

 **SP POV - 10 JAN 2014**

I don't think I'd ever been this nervous before, even when I was called into the principal's office for thinking I was invisible and waltzing into the very occupied boys bathroom. I was sweating and my hands were clammy despite the gelid winter weather. I'd spent the entirety of dinner psyching myself up to share my news and choking every time I seemed to have an opening, and now I was helping my Mom and Grandma Mazur clean up. Man up Plum, I berated myself, I was a grown ass woman, I could handle telling my family about the most recent development in my life.

After loading the last dish into the 80's era dishwasher, I headed into the living room to join my Dad and Grandma Mazur, who was sporting her very best velour tracksuit with _Juicy_ stamped on the butt in rhinestones. I plopped onto the lumpy, floral print sofa and waited for my mother to join us, secretly hoping it would take her another couple hours. Unfortunately, it only took her about three minutes. After a few, deep, steadying breaths to keep from hyperventilating, I decided to plow ahead with my announcement. "Mom, Daddy, Grandma, I have some important news I wanted to share with you." I guess my slightly blanched visage helped convey how serious I was and the television was clicked off without any prompting, probably the first time that's happened since I announced my pending divorce from The Dick.

"Stephanie, are you okay?" my mother asked from the seat across the coffee table from me. I must have nodded too vigorously in reply because I could see the tension in her face rise as her brow crinkled, deepening her frown lines.

"I… I found out a few days ago that…," I paused to take another deep breath and regroup. "I'm pregnant. With twins!" I announced with as much feigned excitement as I could muster. It was good news and I was sure I'd be ecstatic about it, _eventually_. And if I was lucky, eventually would be before they were born.

"What! No, you can't be. Are you sure you haven't just gained a little weight," my mother replied with shock written across her face, gesturing to my chunky sweater that was apparently too successful in masking my barely noticeable baby bump.

"Helen!," Grandma Mazur admonished, reaching out to place her hand over mine which were tightly clasped in my lap. "She's pregnant, not fat. So, how far along are you?" she asked, immediately curious and excited about the prospect of additional great-grandbabies.

"I'm a little over three months. My due date is probably in June because twins tend to be born a few weeks early," I replied, grateful for her immediate support. "Daddy?" I asked, hoping to avoid my mother's likely harsh response once she fully processed my news. Or, more aptly, the fact that I was sharing my news _solo_ and hadn't mentioned a shotgun wedding or even an engagement.

"Twins huh? When do you find out if one of those is my future grandson?" he asked, with a thoughtful, happy expression.

"I won't know for another month or two."

"Oooh, I hope you get one of each! If they're the same, you could dress them matching and stuff, but you always run the risk of getting them confused. Brenda, who works at the Clip 'n Curl, said her niece had identical twins and once she got them mixed up for an entire week!" Grandma Mazur added.

"Okay Pumpkin. And… the fella?" Daddy asked cautiously. I shook my head slightly, trying my hardest to hold his gaze. After a beat, he nodded in acknowledgment, "you're gonna do great, Pumpkin. Your kids are gonna be hell-raisers who'll take on the world, just wait and see." He punctuated his support by reaching over to me from his recliner to give me a quick hug and kiss on the temple. "And, I know you can take care of yourself, especially after that run in with Morelli and Edna's Buick, but if there's someone I need to have some words with or an ass I need to kick, you let me know. Okay Pumpkin?"

"I'm… everything's okay, _really_ ," I explained vaguely to which my father nodded with a pointed glare letting me know I could change my mind in that regard at any time. "Thank you Daddy."

"Anytime Pumpkin, anytime," he said with a soft smile.

" _Everything's okay?_ " my mother snorted lividly, "everything is _not_ okay. Frank, is that really all you care about? Having a grandson?" My father's sheepish nod seemed to fuel her diatribe and amplify the angry blush infusing her cheeks. "Everything is not okay. There's something you skipped right over while sharing this scandalous piece of news, _missy_ ," she said, giving me a pointed look, compelling me to cave and tell her what she demanded.

I'd already decided, though, that until I could get a hold of the father, inform him and discuss how he wanted to handle things with respect to being in our or at least his children's lives, I was keeping the circle of people who knew his identity as small as possible. I knew there were some people, namely a few Merry Men, my closest friends and perhaps Grandma Mazur who might be able to guess his identity, but I trusted them to keep the information to themselves. Besides, my mom wanted to know because she felt it was her right, to browbeat him down the aisle, and to spin the inevitable Burg gossip in her favor. She wouldn't respect my wishes and keep the information to herself and I didn't want him to find out from gossip or my harping mother. Our relationship ended abruptly at his behest and now that we were linked forever, I wanted to find a way to let my bitterness at how things ended between us go and approach this new stage in our relationship with respect and consideration. And there was nothing remotely respectful or considerate about finding out you're a father via the Burg grapevine or the nagging grandma of your first (and second) born. I love my mother, I do, but I don't want her to be happy at the expense of my relationship with my children's father. That relationship, whatever little it may entail, couldn't be sacrificed for her ego. She'd just have to get over it.

"I've shared my good news, Mom, and I have nothing more to share at this time," I replied nonchalantly, hoping to prevent her from interrogating me through my gaze.

"The father, _Stephanie_. Who. Is. The. Father? And when do you plan on marrying?" she demanded, scooting to the edge of her seat and glaring at me, fire and disappointment in her icy blue eyes.

"Mom, I'm not ready to tell you that right now and I'm not sure when I will be. But I promise I have everything under control, I will be able to raise them and care for them on my own and, hopefully, with all of your support," I explained carefully.

"We'll be with you every step of the way, _anything_ you need baby granddaughter," Grandma Mazur chimed in, tossing a cautionary look at her daughter which she promptly ignored.

"Stephanie, you have a dangerous job and life. We need to know who the father is for that and because, well, I _deserve_ to know who the father of my grandchildren are! Unless… oh why me?" she lamented suddenly and I could almost see the gears in her head turn. "Is the father someone you met at that insufferable job? What will the neighbors think?" she groaned, her hand draped dramatically across her forehead.

"Mom, I told you weeks ago that I left that job and am going into business for myself. W*ish, remember? Besides, it doesn't matter whether the father is a superhero or a bum, the Burg biddies are going to gossip no matter what," I defended my choice to stay silent.

"She's right, Helen. I think you should just enjoy this for the blessing that it is," Daddy offered.

My mother simply rolled her eyes and continued on her warpath. "You've _always_ been selfish, Stephanie," she spit out, "don't you care about anyone but yourself? Don't you _care_ that it makes me look like a bad mother if you have children out of wedlock? It's bad enough that you went and divorced Dickie, but not letting me know your children's father's name? This is beyond anything I _ever_ thought you were capable of!"

"Helen!" my father shouted over Grandma Mazur's, "I'm proud she divorced that horse's patoot!"

However, my mother was not to be deterred, "Don't you care what happens to _me_?" she asked, her fury bringing her to her feet to glower down on me. " _You_ may have turned your back on the Burg, but _I_ still have to live her and be _judged_ by my friends for… for _your_ mistakes!" I saw a bare glimmer of regret for her harsh decree, but it was gone and only anger, judgment and hate remained in her eyes.

I took a deep breath and stood to face her, flanked by and equally livid and shocked Grandma Mazur and Frank Plum. "Don't you _ever_ refer to my children like that again. I'm glad that my choices and life have turned out nothing like yours, and despite your guilt trips and criticism, I am not going to change my mind about living my own life on my own terms, telling you who the father is, or having _them_ ," I said, with my hands caged protectively over my small yet tell-tale baby bump. "And you should consider that perhaps people who're chomping at the bit to gossip and spread malicious lies about you and your family are _not_ your friends or people who's opinions hold anything to be valued!" I shouted, the blood pumping roughly through my veins and my face turning crimson with anger, hurt and disappointment.

I whispered a quick thanks to Daddy and Grandma Mazur and headed to the foyer to fasten my plum peacoat and black mittens before braving the snow on the way to my SUV. I was about to walk out the door when I was halted by footsteps behind me and my mother's harsh voice, "I've _never_ in my life been more disappointed in you than I am right now. Not when you came back from playing with Joseph Morelli in his father's garage with your underwear on inside out at when you were six, not when you tried to fly off the roof and ended up in the ER, not when Joseph wrote lewd poetry about you in several men's bathrooms across town, not even when you divorced Dickie, nullifying the vows you made just months before in front of God."

"And I've never been as disappointed in you," I replied softly but crisply, never adjusting my gaze from the scuffed, white door with frosted glass panels, hoping she didn't hear my voice crack. " _All_ I ask of you is that you love them. Despite the faults you find in me, they are innocent and _deserve_ to have a loving grandmother," I pleaded and hated myself for it.

"I don't want to have anything to do with this… this _train wreck_ until you tell me who the father is," she announced with finality in her voice before stomping up the stairs and slamming her bedroom door. I just stood there, mitten-clad hand on the brass doorknob as I tried to swallow down my disappointment and blink away the sting of tears. After a few moments, I felt Grandma Mazur place a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Don't you worry about your Mother, baby granddaughter, she just takes a while to warm up to change. You just keep being you, because that's what best for my great-grandbabies, okay?" she asked cautiously. After I nodded jerkily she continued, "you and I are gonna meet for dinner tomorrow night to catch up, my treat. I'll do my best to talk some sense into Helen. Just remember, I am always here for you and always proud of you, no matter what," her hand still lightly rubbing my shoulder like she used to do when I was a kid and had run to her looking for an escape from my mother and Saint Valerie.

I turned and swooped down to give her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek before heading out into the biting cold.

* * *

 **SP POV - 10 APR 2015**

Serafina, Theo and I had spent a relaxing Friday night in. After a delicious meal of gourmet meatball pizza from The Monk Room and sweet potato puree with rice, I spent a few hours vetting additional potential w*ish franchise owners while the twins attempted to chase and pop bubbles from a bubble maker machine while in their padded baby walkers. Their gleeful shrieks, clapping and babbling made reading about how working as a lingerie clad exotic dancer made one of the applicants the ideal candidate much more tenable. And while not all of the candidates were winners, like Bailey Crow who funded her B.A. in communications by being a professional cuddler or Guy Phillips, a live mannequin for Abercrombie, I did find a few people with potential such as Aileen Woods, a personal shopper turned stylist and Jack Maxwell, a business major who was currently a manager at Sephora. Whether it was a legit filtering method or not, I looked for applicants that reminded me of myself, out to prove or perhaps reinvent themselves and looking at w*ish as a way to help with their personal and professional journey.

Once the twins were sufficiently worn out (and more than a little sticky), I cleaned them up with a quick bubble bath, got them tucked snugly into bed, and sang them a Hungarian lullaby Grandma Mazur sang to me as a child. I watched them slowly drift off to sleep, continually amazed at how perfect they were. Serafina tended pout a little in her sleep but stayed bundled up in the cocoon I formed with her giraffe print fleece blanket while Theo was more of a drooler and restless sleeper, kicking his leaf patterned covering to the bottom of his crib and tangling his pudgy, latte hued arms in the bedding and his pillow. Like I said, _perfect_.

I spent the next few hours switching between tasks for RangeMan and w*ish before calling it a day and heading off to bed to look through the house listings Gianna had emailed me earlier today. I was a considerably more severe with pruning down the selection this time around. If the place didn't give me a feeling of home, I marked it as such. Finally, I was left with four properties, a mid-century modern with large windows, oak flooring throughout and a huge yard, a single story modern with high-ceilings and slate exteriors, a traditional two-story craftsman with a cross gabled roof and large deck, a modern-craftsman hybrid with stone wall segments and a fancy pool, and a mid-century modern with a mono-pitched roof and elaborate patio area. I drifted off to sleep, dreaming of our future home and all of the memories we'd build there, starting with the twins' first birthday.

Several hours later, I was roughly snatched from my dreams of happily ever after by my phone's blaring reminiscent of an alarm. What was going on? That was definitely not my ringtone, it was far too annoying to be anything I'd choose. I struck out blindly for my phone, finding it on my sleek, ebony nightstand. I flipped it open and answered snippily without checking the display, "What!"

"Bomber? I need you to meet me at w*ish ASAP," I heard Tank's tight voice direct me. I looked over at my clock to see that it was 2:27AM, and _very much_ the middle of the night.

"Tank, do you know what time it is? It is stupid o'clock and I am _not_ getting out of bed, it's warm and snuggly and I like it here," I huffed defiantly.

"Ugh, I forgot how difficult you could be in the morning. I have to direct the team, talk to Santos," Tank replied gruffly and I could vaguely hear him shouting commands to the Merry Men as I pouted in response to his apt assessment of my morning attitude, although I refused to consider anything before 7AM the morning. I reluctantly sat up and fumbled on my stacked glass orb lamp.

"Hey Beautiful," Lester forced his trademark easy going tone, "so, there was an incident at w*ish, I need you to meet us there and talk to the police. Okay?"

"What do you mean _an incident_ at w*ish? And why are the police involved?" I demanded cautiously, unsure if I really wanted to know what was likely bad news.

"I'm sorry Steph, but it seems like some punks broke in and tore the place up."

I knew Lester continued reporting, something about apprehending the culprits, but I couldn't really comprehend anything beyond the tingling buzz of blood rushing in my ears. My work baby had been molested.

* * *

A/N: I just wanted to add that I used the term molested but I'm not trying to make light of people who've experienced that type of trauma. It just fit with w*ish being her 'work baby', nothing more.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and sorry for the whole two part chapter thing. I hope you enjoyed it!


	6. Chapter 4: Part 1

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thanks for the favorites/follows/reviews. I really appreciate them. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Part I. "A man, when he WISHes, is the master of his fate." - Jose Ferrer**

 **Chapter 4 - Part 1**

 **Lester Santos POV - 11 APR 2015**

"Ba-baby," I mumbled, my voice scratchy with sleep, "what are you doing?" I asked the delicious, naked back of my not-so-casual lady friend as she fumbled through my dark bedroom searching for something. I smirked, satisfied at the sight of the slightly faded hickey marking her perfect ass, a souvenir from three nights ago.

"Go back to sleep Les," she whispered as she found her blue lacy bra on the cream carpet near my closet door and lifted it triumphantly in the air before slipping it back on.

If I'm being honest, I wasn't really confident about Steph's chances for success when she first shared her plans to open w*ish. But now, having experienced some of her merchandise first hand, well, let's just say I'm a fan. A _huge_ fan. "I thought you were gonna stay the night C.C., I had plans for waking you up," I added lasciviously, sitting up against the padded, leather headboard and turning on the bedside lamp we'd managed to knock over in our overzealousness a few hours earlier.

"I know, it's just… I have to be at court early tomorrow for a discovery motion for the Volkov case and I needed to do some prep work but all my stuff's at my place," she explained as she stepped into her black pencil skirt from last night and zipped it up before haphazardly attempting to close the buttons on her silk shirt with lace-tipped collar points. The silk shirt that I ripped most of the buttons off of while trying to get her out of it last night. She shot me an exasperated glare when she realized only two buttons remained. " _Again?_ Santos, if you do this to another one of my shirts I'm gonna make you go shopping with me!" she threatened with a finger pointed at me as she clutched the shirt closed.

I cockily interlaced my fingers behind my head and leaned back, giving her a slow scan, "you know you love when I get impatient. And we're back to 'Santos' now, are we Counselor?" I queried with a smirk.

"Yup," she replied, popping the 'p' as she searched through my dresser.

"What are you looking for?"

"T-shirt to wear home," she announced, still rummaging through my clothes, "who needs this many pairs of cargo pants?" she mumbled under her breath, "you have them in like _every_ color!"

I sauntered over to her and placed my hands on her hips, pulling her back towards my chest then marching her towards the back of my walk-in closet where a set of shelves had been built into the wall. I crouched down about a foot to rest my chin on her shoulder and pointed to the shelf at her eye-level. After several months of undefined hook ups that began with C.C. cornering me in the Trenton Court House parking lot to yell at me, I realized that whether or not we decided to define things, we _were_ in a relationship. And about a year in, I was terrified to discover I was hooked and no longer found other women alluring, not _really_. I go to Penthouse Gentlemen's Club with the guys and I wish C.C. was the one giving me a lap dance, I have a client meeting with a recently divorced ex-Dallas Cowboys cheerleader and I'm bored while she's eye-fucking me, I destress after a long day with some high-quality smut and _nothing_. Sure I found them attractive, empirically, but they did nothing for me… well little me, although he's _never_ been referred to as little. After that I decided to clear out some space to put the random things she'd left behind on accident and never really reclaimed like clothes, make-up crap and several pairs of panties. She was as skittish as I was with respect to our burgeoning relationship and probably just bought new stuff, but I kept it all anyways and piled it into her shelf.

"I-you..wha? You gave me a-a _shelf_?" she asked incredulously, sifting through the items that I'd stored there. "Oh my gosh, I've been looking for this," she mumbled under her breath at discovering a tube of fuchsia lipgloss.

"Mhmm," I replied, kissing the side of her neck before straightening up and resting my chin on her well-tousled hair.

" _You_ , Lester 'commitment-phobe extraordinaire' Santos gave _me_ , Calista 'I-don't-need-no-man' Cooper a shelf," she stated, more for her own clarification than for mine as she grabbed a green, cable-knit sweater to replaced her torn shirt. She turned in my arms, rested her hands on my bare shoulders and pressed up to place a small kiss on my cheek, "Thank you," she whispered sincerely. We stood there, locked in our gaze, both of us reveling in the evolution of what started out as a series of no-strings attached, hate-sex booty-calls until a my phone emitted a sharp ringing sound.

"Crap, that's the RangeMan alarm," I explained as I hurried to locate my phone which was still in my pants' pocket somewhere in the pile of clothing I'd discarded hastily last night on the bedroom floor. I fished the phone out and barked, "Report."

"Alarm triggered at the corner of Market and Broad Street in Newark, a team arrived within eight minutes and were able to secure the scene and apprehend three perps: caucasian, mid-twenties, amateurs who were vandalizing the property," Caesar explained the situation succinctly, in true RangeMan fashion. "Instructions to proceed?"

Fuck, that's w*ish, Steph's gonna be _pissed_. "Tell the team my ETA is 50 minutes, I'll pick Tank up on the way. Call local police to pick up perps, take statements and process the scene. We'll inform the client," I replied tersely before hanging up. I immediately began gearing up while C.C. gathered her things and slipped on her heels, both of us working in hurried silence. I was strapping on my second gun when she fished a cellphone charger out of her purse, deliberately stalked into my closet and left it neatly coiled on her shelf.

She walked back up to me, gave me a heated kiss and said "good luck with your break-in," before traipsing downstairs.

I quickly caught up to her, turned her around and backed her into the front door while kissing her. "Good luck with your money laundering Russians, baby," is said with a satisfied smirk at her breathlessness before walking her to her car and heading to mine.

Roughly 45 minutes and a call to a frantic Stephanie Plum later, I pulled up to the desecrated w*ish storefront. Most of the glass windows were shattered and from what I could see several of the displays had been tossed to the ground, trampled and a few had been torched. 'Die Bitch' had been spray painted on one of the walls, over the purple on purple striped wall with 'w*ish' scrolled in gold. There were three squad cars, their colored lightbars reflected in the broken glass littering the sidewalk and carpet. Tank and I got out of the car, he shot me a look indicating that I should try to finesse a few minutes with the perps while he gets a sitrep from our team who were maintaining the perimeter and monitoring the police and technicians who were processing the scene.

I marched over to an officer who was standing in front of three gruff guys in their finest burglar ensembles with their hands handcuffed behind their backs and were slouched on the curb. "Officer Novak," I read off his name-tag, holding my hand out for him to shake. He seemed green but had a firm handshake, disciplined posture and situational awareness that spoke of a military background. I was relieved at least something was going our way, ex-military cops were always more cooperative than local chip-on-their-shoulder types. "Lester Santos of RangeMan, could I have a few minutes to speak to them," I stated more than asked, jutting my chin towards the novice scum on the dirty sidewalk.

"First Lieutenant Santos, it's an honor to meet you sir. I'd heard rumors you were in Jersey, I just didn't expect to meet you," he gushed after saluting me.

"At ease, soldier," I said, curious as to how he knew about me.

"Sorry sir, I served under Axel Colon and he told stories about your team saving his hide from rebels in Columbia," he explained, slightly abashed by his eagerness.

I nodded in response, "Santos is fine Officer."

"Yes si-Santos, call me Peter. I was actually just on my way to pick up a carton of coffee from Dunkin' Donuts down the street, so I'll be back in about 15," he said, tilting his head at the men on the sidewalk who were starting to look alarmed that they'd be left at my mercy. Peter ambled away, his hands resting on his standard police issue utility belt as I turned to face the culprits.

"Do you know what RangeMan is, what we do?" I asked menacingly. Eventually they all nodded, one of them nervously and the other two arrogantly. I can work with one out of three, I thought as I continued, "good, then you know the cost of not answering my questions is more than you want to pay. Names?" I bit out.

"Eva-" the nervous one began, his floppy light brown Bieber-hair obscuring his face, before the middle one, the ringleader, per my assessment, interrupted him.

"Shut the fuck up and stick to the plan," he reprimanded his friend before turning to me, "we don't have to tell your spic ass shit," his voice dripping with venom.

Cocky, racist amateur, this was gonna be fun. I crouched down in front of them and pulled out the kabar knife that was sheathed in my left boot. I laid the flat of the blade innocently against the ringleader's upper thigh. He tried to squirm away and I twisted it so the blade bit into his leg a little. No blood, just pressure and a silent threat. He stopped moving immediately and stared anxiously at the black blade's sharp edge.

"Y-you can't do this. We're in police custody, we have rights," he asserted nervously, sweat dripping down his temple.

"The police aren't here, they're busy inside the store you vandalized. The store that belongs to a good friend of mine and RangeMan employee," I gave it a minute for the fact that they'd unwittingly attacked one of our own and the inevitable truth that our reaction would likely reflect that.

Unfortunately, the silent co-conspirator with the ever-fashionable neck spiderweb tattoo decided to speak up, "this place is owned by a stuck-up MILF, not some RangeMan douche."

"Wrong. Now, you have until she gets here in about 5 minutes to tell me who you are and why you did this. If not, then I'll let her deal with you, and trust me, that MILF's knee should be registered as a WMD because she'll happily use it to ram your balls so far up you'll choke on them. I've seen her do it," I explained, enjoying their looks of terror and queasiness and the smell of fear rolling off of them. Fuckin' pussies.

Nervous Bieber turned to the ringleader, "We're already arrested, they're gonna run our prints and know who we are. I'm not getting skewered or my balls rearranged because you wanna play tough guy," he whisper shouted, nodding his head at my kabar still resting snugly on his friend's thigh.

"Don't you dare, you fucking bi-"

"Save it, you're _clearly_ not the alpha here," he interjected sharply before turning to me, "I'm Evan Winters and this is Eric Masters and Cash Jones," he explained, nodding at ringleader and spiderweb respectively while naming them, ignoring their scowls and eye-daggers. "We're all pissed because Eric's snatch, Jess, gave us up to that hard-ass lawyer bitch, sent us to jail and then got herself a cushy job sellin' fuckin' thongs here," he explained with as much bravery as he could muster.

"Look dude, this has nothing to do with you or the fuzz. This is between us and that cunt," Spiderweb, aka Cash, explained crisply.

I chuckled a bit, sardonically, of course this would happen to Steph's store, I thought as all the pieces finally fell into place. Around the time that w*ish first opened, Calista was working with a petty thief and con-woman Jessica Davis. She wanted out of her downhill spiral which was in large part due to her ambitious, ex-con boyfriend and his crew. She worked with Calista because she trusted her more than the Trenton PD to get these three asshats arrested for planning a hostage for ransom. Turns out they were, in my opinion, unnecessarily bitter about it. Calista had mentioned the case to Steph and recognizing a fellow lost-soul, she took Jessica under her wing, gave her a job, found her an apartment and helped her get her GED. That was Steph for you, beautiful inside and out. And now her good deed was biting her in the ass. Classic Steph.

"So you geniuses thought that trashing her place of business would be payback?" I asked with my eyebrow arched.

"No, this is just stage tw-," Evan started to explain before realizing his mistake and clamming up. Fucking amateurs. New Jersey needed a better class of criminals.

"You will stop with Stage 2 of your bullshit plan or you will deal with _me_. And like yourselves, _I_ don't play by the rules. The only difference is that I was trained by Uncle Sam, I don't get caught and I _always_ achieve my objective. Do. You. Understand?" I barked. Nervous Bieber started nodding vigorously followed by a reluctant yet terrified Spiderweb. Eric, however, just started back at me, unrepentant. I was about to put the fear of RangeMan in him when I heard the screech of tires.

I stood and turned to see Steph stumble out of her car, devastation written across her features as she took in the destruction to w*ish. In seconds the devastation turned into unbridled outrage and she pointed at Hal who was monitoring the new entrances to w*ish, "Hal, watch my raspberries!" she yelled, tossing him her keys before marching towards me. "Are these the little shits who did this?" she demanded as she stalked closer. I looked back at the three, fear and shock written on their faces as they tried to scuttle farther away from her.

"Yup," I replied, snagging her around the waist as she tried to launch herself at them, fists swinging and kicking.

"Let me go, Les. I'm gonna do to them what they did to w*ish!" she yelled, her face red with fury and spit flying from her mouth.

"There's no need to get biblical, Beautiful, I've handled it, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, totally handled,", "Mhmm, yes," "D-definitely, and we're sorry ma'am," Cash, Eric and Evan shouted over each other.

That calmed her down a bit, though she was still sending them a menacing glare. I put her down and turned her by her shoulders to face me, "Beautiful, I know it looks bad, but it's gonna be fine. We'll have w*ish fixed up before you know it, okay?"

She looked down at the tan knee-high boots she'd tossed on over a pair of dark-wash fitted jeans while she tried to calm her rapid breaths. After a few moments, she'd succeeded and her blush began receding. She looked up at me, anger and indignation blazing in her cobalt blue eyes, "He. Called. Me. Ma'am, Lester. _Ma'am_ _!_ Handle it!" she hissed before turning around fast enough to smack me in the face with her curly ponytail. She ducked under the slightly twisted police issue caution tape and marched into w*ish to ferret out Tank, I assumed, the poor bastard.

"Fuck, we got off lucky," I heard Spiderweb mumble.

"Y-Yeah, that bitch is crazy," Eric reluctantly agreed.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. It was going to be a _long_ night.

* * *

 **SP POV - 30 JAN 2014**

I had been waiting in The Launch Room, the smaller of the two spartan yet posh first floor conference rooms at RangeMan for the past 5 minutes, going over my talking points as I nervously fidgeted with the label of the bottle of water Cisco gave me when he deposited me in here with a befuddled expression. I've never been a formal type of person, opting more for a laid back, 'we're friends' attitude and the news that I'd scheduled a formal client meeting with Lester had apparently spread through RangeMan Trenton, planting confusion in my Merry Men. It figures: you give these guys a couple water bottles, a paperclip and a few grenades and tell them to handle a warlord and they're totally cool, in control and know exactly what to do; you give them a woman who acts out of character and they're panicked I'm gonna cry, harness my PMS anger to make their lives hell or demand they talk about their feelings.

I was disrupted from daydreaming about wielding my PMS anger in a manner similar to Wonder Woman brandishing her lasso of truth by Lester cautiously walking in followed by Tank. Tank wasn't really what you'd call a people person and avoided client meetings unless his presence was specifically requested which meant they must be worried and decided to start strong by bringin' out the big guns decked out in their wooing clients finest in lieu of their preferred cargo pants and RangeMan t-shirts. I decided to find that flattering. They both ambled in and seated themselves at the head of the ovular table.

"Tank, Lester," I greeted them with quick nods, "thank for making time for me, I really appreciate it."

"Of course Steph. What can we help you with today?" Lester asked, his professional, stolid mask firmly in place as he and Tank stared expectantly at me.

I took a quick breath to calm my nerves before launching into my spiel. "As you know, I've been working for the past few months to get my own business up and running. I'm opening w*ish, a high-end lingerie boutique. I've recently signed a lease for a storefront in downtown Newark and I wanted to discuss hiring RangeMan to do my security," I explained.

"Congratulations Bomber, although the 'Coming Soon' ads scooped you" Tank said in his booming voice.

"That's great, Beautiful," Lester said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "so, you need help testing out your merch?"

"Oh, I've already had my designs tested by a few friends, but I'll keep you in mind for the next time," I replied, not quite quashing my urge to roll my eyes.

"So, you're finally putting all that design school learnin' to good use?" Tank asked.

"Yeah-wait, you knew about that? _Of course_ you knew. You've known since you ran my background check before officially hiring me, huh?" I asked, surprised that I hadn't realized earlier that they knew despite keeping quiet about it. Although the fact that no one mentioned it wasn't really surprising, the Merry Men were not a talkative bunch.

"Actually, Beautiful, we ran your background _before_ you came in to interview," Lester corrected me with a smirk. "And you know RangeMan is happy to service your every need, security or otherwise" he added with a lascivious wink.

"Thanks Les, but I'm only interested in your security services," I replied tartly.

"Really, Steph? I don't have any first-hand knowledge, but if memory serves-"

"I'm sure. I will _never_ be interested in more than RangeMan's professional services," I cut him off with a stern look, fingers tightly gripping the edge of my surprisingly comfortable seat. "Besides, I'm not really in a position to date," I mumbled under my breath. "Since, I already know the general prices, I figured we could skip that and jump right to designing a system," I suggested, sliding building schematics and a detailed floorpan for how I planned on setting up w*ish across the tinted glass table.

After going over the schematics and making a few notes, Tank gave me a breakdown on their assessment of w*ish's security needs. "We'd attach sensors to all windows, install keypads for the front, back, office and storage doors along with floor bolts because the net worth of the merchandise is high, and finally, we'll place cameras over the doors, storage room, cash register and main floor area."

"That's a bit more thorough than I expected but I see where you're coming from. I just want to confirm that there won't be cameras in the dressing room area," I stressed, my gaze firmly fixed on Lester.

"Of course Beautiful. Besides, the whole voyeur thing isn't really my jam," Lester quipped, strumming his fingers lightly on his notepad.

"Nope, Ginuwine's _Pony_ is more his style," Tank commented with a subtle smirk.

"Really? 'Cause I woulda pegged him as more of a Divinyls' _I Touch Myself_ kinda guy," I sassed, shifting in my seat to tug my pencil skirt straight.

"Please, you two know I'm all about _My Way_ by Usher!" Lester chortled.

"Hmmm… that's not at all what the bartender at Hypnotique said… what was her name?" I countered, finger tapping my cherry lipgloss tinted, pursed lips in contemplation.

"She lied, _clearly_. And I think I have her name written on a post-it somewhere…" Lester replied, clearly disgruntled with his less than stellar review.

"Seriously Santos? The chic's name was Chrissy. She always gets us a free round when we go," Tank informed, ending our persiflage. "Stephanie, we've heard chatter about Alexander Ramos being an investor for w*ish," Tank demanded, the use of my full name indicating the magnitude of his concern.

"Chatter? Seriously? You mean _gossip_ , Tank, and yes, it is true," I answered shortly, tossing my curly mane over my shoulder.

Tank blew out a noisy breath and scrubbed a hand down over his face before resting his fist on the gelid table, "Stephanie, you know better than to get into bed with a gunrunning mobster, especially such a volatile one," he chastised with a exasperated glower.

I knew the Merry Men tended to get a little overprotective, but this felt diminishing. Besides, I knew what I was doing. "I am not _in bed_ with Ramos, there are _no_ beds!" I quipped, crossing my arms over my blue-gray suit jacket and pleated, cream shell encased chest and glaring at Tank.

"Steph, he didn't mean it like that," Lester comforted, shooting Tank a pointed look when he huffed in dissonance. "We know Ramos has a soft spot for you and we just don't want you to get into something you can't get out of later."

"So it's _okay_ to capitalize on this so-called soft spot when it benefits RangeMan but not when it benefits w*ish? Nice guys, way to rock that hypocrisy!" I snarked before taking pity on their worried yet anxious expressions. "Look, _technically_ it's Ramos' money, but I only deal with his nephew, Aeneas Vasiliou who handles investing Ramos' clean money and is entirely removed from the illegal aspects of his business."

"Bomber, all aspects of Ramos' business are dirty. Laundering the money doesn't make it clean," Tank critiqued bluntly, rocking back in his chair and raising an eyebrow as he looked down at me.

Frankly, it was something I'd been letting myself remain in denial about. I knew that no matter how many times that money was washed, it would never be completely free of the metallic stench of blood. But I needed the start-up money and I had a plan to buy him out within two to three years, max. Besides, Aeneas assured me that the funds I was given came from profits of other legal business ventures and investments as opposed to the more… directly soiled funds.

"We know Vasiliou only handles legit business and we're glad you're only dealing with him, but you you could've come to us. You _should've_ come to us. Even if you didn't want our help directly, we could've helped convince a bank that you were a good investment," Lester offered sincerely, hurt clouding his gaze.

I knew that I could always turn to the RangeMan Core Team for help, but it didn't feel right. I didn't want to ask someone who would've felt obligated to help and I knew that Ramos wouldn't let his affinity for me to color or sway his professional judgment, at least not without me accepting his marriage proposal. "I just, I needed to do this on my own and the opportunity sorta fell into my lap. I'm being safe, I promise. I wouldn't have gone through with it if it felt hinky," I assured them.

"Okay, Little Girl, we were just worried and wanted to bring it up," Tank explained softly.

"So Aeneas huh, on a first name basis with your bank already?" Lester teased while waggling his eyebrows.

"Ugh, he's just a business associate Les, trust me. I'm not getting _friendly_ with anyone these days," I muttered. Tank and Lester responded by exchanged a heavy look that I was too distracted to attempt to decipher. Instead, I tapped my pen on the edge of my notepad and got our meeting back on track, "anyways, the only thing left to do is to schedule an install date and generate a cost estimate."

"I'll send some guys out whenever you officially start renting the space and we're not gonna charge you Bomber," Tank replied succinctly, his tone brooking no argument as he gathered his notes and blueprints and schematics I'd provided.

Unfortunately for him, I'd never been big on reading into context clues like other people's tone when it went against my needs. In this case, I _needed_ to pay for RangeMan services. I wasn't comfortable with them doing me that big of a favor, especially when I knew that the outlined services wouldn't come cheap. "Guys, I'm a client, same as anyone else off the street. That's why I specifically set up a proper client meeting instead of just bringing this up at our monthly meeting or over pizza at Shorty's," I pointed out.

"Just consider it a perk of your part-time employment with RangeMan," Lester offered.

"It… I can't… ugh!" I took a few minutes to compose my thoughts and ignored the ESP conversation Lester and Tank were having before attempting to explain again, "I _love_ that you guys made me part of the RangeMan family, but I don't feel comfortable taking so much from him-you, from _you_." I proceeded to clarify it one more time, "I don't feel comfortable taking so much from you. I would feel like I was taking advantage and to avoid that I'd either go somewhere subpar for my security needs or scrimp on services and I don't want to do either of those things. I want the best and you're it. _Please_ ," I implored, slightly breathless after my rambling speech.

"You know we don't feel that way, right? You're one of us, Beautiful. Like you said, we're family," Lester explained softly, his warm green eyes holding mine as he waited for acceptance of his statement.

I nodded in response, "yeah, but I still need to do this my way."

"Alright Little Girl, we'll write up a contract with an at-cost price," Tank decided after a few moments during which our wills battled silently. "No negotiations," he added strongly when he noticed I was about to argue.

I decided to agree. If I was being honest, this was the best compromise I could've hoped for. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you," I quipped smartly, holding out my hand to seal the deal as a wide, infectious smile spread across my face.

* * *

 **SP POV - 11 APR 2015**

It was now 6:30AM, I was on my fourth cup of coffee and exhausted but energized, a steady, low stream of adrenaline still pumping through my body. After the police had finished processing the scene and I'd taken pictures for the insurance company, the Merry Men and I had cleaned up the broken glass, desecrated displays and ruined lingerie, Allegra and I started assessing what needed to be replaced to open again while my assistant Reggie catalogued the damage for the insurance company while looking after Serafina, Theo and Gracie, Allegra's daughter, who were sleeping in my office which the vandals didn't have time to destroy. I was touched that several of the off-duty Merry Men came when they heard about the damage along with Allegra and Reggie who I'd texted to tell them not to come into work today and why. They'd all shown up around the time the police finished up with coffee, doughnuts and a much appreciated attitude to tackle the damage head on.

Allegra and I were enjoying a coffee break while admiring the Merry Men who were replacing the broken windows and painting over the graffitied walls. Tank and Lester were somewhere reassessing holes in the security system, although this seemed like a freak accident and, frankly, RangeMan's swift response actually saved w*ish from being truly destroyed and burnt to a crisp.

"Okay, I think we're making good progress. I'm thinking we'll need to stay closed for today and tomorrow, at least. I think we can open again on Sunday," I assessed, looking around and adding replace dressing room curtains, replace carpet, and fix broken shelving along the left wall to my running To Do: list.

"Mhmm. I can't believe those idiots! It feels like we're starting over but worse because when I first helped you set this place up I saw potential everywhere and now all I see are our hours of hard work demolished," Allegra added, regretfully.

"I know, it's kinda heartbreaking. I'm just glad it was during the night when the place was empty and that RangeMan got here quick enough to keep it from getting worse," I said, taking a long sip of my carefully doctored coffee.

"Yeah, those RangeMen, _very_ handy," she commented wistfully, staring at Chase lifting my new window into place with Zero and Vince. "So, how well do you know them?" she inquired with forced innocence.

"Pretty well. They're all really great guys. Loyal, hardworking, easy on the eyes," I smirked knowingly as she shot me a shocked, open-mouthed look at having been caught ogling. "Chase is single, by the way. And a Virgo, if that makes a difference."

"Wha-I'm not… I was just…" Allegra sputtered before deciding to opt for honesty, "do you think he'd be interested? I mean, Gracie and I, we're a package deal and I don't want to waste time with a guy that isn't interested in something real and long term…" she clarified

"I understand where you're coming from, I do know a lot of the Merry Men aren't interested in anything beyond casual, but they're upfront about it. I don't know Chase as well as some of the others, he was hired after I switched to part-time, but I think he recently ended a long-term relationship, although I'm fuzzy on the details," I offered. I wasn't sure if Chase was interested in Allegra, but I had noticed him checking her out. "Chase?" I called out after chugging the last of my coffee, I decided to flex my match-making muscles once he nodded his acknowledgement, "could help Allegra take down and replaced the slashed and singed dressing room curtains?"

"Sure thing Bombshell," he replied with a grateful smirk as he finished setting the reinforced window glass.

"You're the best," I replied sweetly, ignoring Zero and Vince's snickering and Allegra's rapidly rising blush. I left them and headed towards the cash register to see what damage was done to the checkout counter when a frantic Jessica Davis rushed in.

"Oh crap! Steph, oh my gosh, I'm _so_ sorry. I came as soon as the police called. I had n-no idea they would do something like this, you have to believe me," she pleaded, wringing her hands nervously as she stood in front of me, a few stray tears running down her alabaster skin and clad in colorful star covered pajama pants and a plum w*ish hoodie.

"Hey, Jess, it's fine. No one was hurt and we'll have the store squared away by Sunday," I replied, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. I knew she'd be upset when she found out that the past she'd left behind had come knocking, I just didn't expect her to be quite so distraught.

"It's just… this place and all of you mean _so_ much to me and I don't… I-" she began blubbering, her tears increasing as took a good look around at the damage and the Merry Men repairing things. I grabbed her by the hand and ushered her back to the storage area for some privacy. I wasn't quite sure what was going on, but I didn't think she'd appreciate an audience. We skirted a few boxes that had been pulled out to catalogue what items I needed to place rush orders on before turning around to face Jessica.

"Jess, it's going to be okay. As frustrated as I am, I would much rather have w*ish closed for a few days than have anything happen to you because these guys can't take a hint. You mean a lot me and everyone at w*ish also. We're family and we're gonna get through this together," I said slowly, maintaining her almost black gaze to ensure she understood that none of this was remotely her fault.

She huffed out a quick breath and her shoulders sagged in relief. "S-so you're not gonna fire me?" she asked softly.

"Of course not, Jess! Crazy shit happens, I would know. I'm not going to fire you because of something that clearly isn't your fault. I'm just glad you're safe," I replied swiftly, shocked that she thought I'd turn her out of the family she'd forged for herself. "Besides, the twins would miss their Auntie Jess and her world famous, homemade strawberry and banana popsicles!"

"The trick is getting the ratio right," she giggled, wiping her eyes on her sleeves. "Thank you Steph, you have no idea what this means to me," she added seriously before giving me a heartfelt hug. "And next time I get their stupid prank calls I'll tell-"

"What? Those shits have been threatening you?" I yelled, the worry filling me increasing my decibel. "Sorry," I squeaked when I realize I'd just raised my voice. "I'm just shocked you've been dealing with so much and I'm sorry that you didn't feel comfortable enough to tell me. I would've helped you or asked RangeMan to help," I explained, disappointed in myself that part of my w*ish family didn't trust me enough to ask for help.

"Okay, I will. Although I don't think they'd be stupid enough to risk getting into trouble over me again," she assured me.

"Thanks. Now, I assume you didn't tell the police about the calls when they let you know what happened tonight?" I asked with an eyebrow arched and my hands on my hips. She shook her head while sporting a sheepish expression. "Alright, how do you feel about telling my friends. They'll handle getting you a restraining order and making sure the detectives know about the escalation in their behavior."

"You'll stay with me?" she asked cautiously. After her run-ins with the law, Jessica tended to be squeamish about police and police types.

"Absolutely," I replied before we headed out in search of Tank and Lester. We found them standing at the back of one of the RangeMan fleet Jeeps, the black vehicles starkly contrasting with the light pinkish-yellow of the early morning light. They were sorting through some familiar looking electronic security equipment next to the steel tool box that was standard issue in all RangeMan vehicles. It housed an extensive first aid kit, extra handcuffs, ankle cuffs, a taser, pepper spray, bullet clips, water bottles, MREs, fire blanket, basic evidence collection kits, security system cabling and an actual toolbox. RangeMan was pro always being prepared.

"Is that the new Salus Solutions security system I got RangeMan a trial contract with? The over-the-top, _super_ fancy, _super_ expensive one?" I took their twin caught-with-their-hands-in-the-cookie-jar expressions as assent. "You can't possibly think w*ish qualifies for that level of security? Guys, this was some idiot kids and you stopped them before they could get too carried away," I huffed. Shocked at how gravely they were taking this minor break-in.

"Beautiful, we've been deciding on locations to test these and after tonight's incident, w*ish fits the bill for an at risk location," Lester explained.

"Nope, not happening. I don't _need_ it and I don't _want_ it. Besides, there's no way I can afford that," I argued, hands akimbo and my practiced Burg glare raining down (well, technically, raining up) at them while Jessica just volleyed her gaze among us, surprised that I was sassing such large, muscle-y men.

"Don't you remember our agreement Little Girl? We charge you an at-cost fee, and since we have this tech on a trial basis, it's technically free for you to use. We can reassess if things change, okay?" Tank countered with a no nonsense tone.

"Ugh, fine. But we will talk about this later," I said with a pointed look. "Now, I was wondering if you guys had a couple minutes?" I queried, switching to a candied tone. After receiving nods, I continued, "Tank, Lester, this is Jessica Davis, she works here at w*ish. Jess, meet Tank Sherman and Lester Santos, heads of RangeMan Trenton."

"You must be the ex-girlfriend," Lester greeted. I guess he'd gotten the perps to talk.

"Y-yeah," Jessica replied, surprised that they knew her in that context.

"Apparently Jess received some… unwanted phone calls from her ex and I was hoping you could help her get a restraining order and provide all relevant information to the police. She's not a huge fan of the boys in blue and I think having you as intermediaries would help," I explained.

"Sure thing Beautiful, I'll have Zero right out to take her information," Lester replied, texting Zero to meet us at the Jeep. He'd just gone back to conferring with Tank when the early dawn quiet was rent by another of my w*ish employees.

"Steph, is everything okay? Jess called us and told us you needed us here but this is like a war-zone!" Mercedes Castillo exclaimed, jogging up to us with her black hair wobbling in a loose bun. She was followed closely by Sofia Santos, her roommate and best friend since elementary.

"Whoa, bro, what the hell is going on?" she called out to Lester, her amber gaze taking in the caution tape and sea of RangeMan vehicles. Sofia was Lester's much younger sister. Lester was covering her tuition and rent and in exchange she had to maintain her GPA. He had offered to provide her with a living stipend as well, but she didn't want to take a handout so Lester asked me to hire her at w*ish so she could cover the cost of her day-to-day expenses. She encouraged Mercedes, a computer science major, to apply which worked out great because in addition to her time at the boutique, she also managed the w*ish website as a paid intern to pad her resume.

"Hey, Mini-Santos," Tank greeted her before focusing on my new security system once again while Lester greeted his sister and her friend with hugs and what can only be described as affectionate nuggies. They managed to extricate themselves to give Jess and I quick hugs before announcing that they were here to help humpty dumpty w*ish back together again and trotted into w*ish to be assigned a task by Allegra. Their departure was followed by Zero borrowing Jessica to discuss her ex and Tank explaining the new system install specs to Hector leaving Lester and I seated in the carpeted trunk of the Jeep, our (well, my) legs dangling out the back.

"It still seems surreal, getting that call, seeing the damage and jumping into problem solving mode to fix things as quickly as possible," I murmured as we watched the Merry Men and w*ish staff work. "Thank you guys. I'm not sure what I would've done with out you looking out for me and helping out."

Lester slung an arm around my shoulders and drug me into his side, "anytime, Beautiful. You should be proud of yourself, Steph. After the initial, murderous frenzy, you jumped right into action, making sure everything that needed to get done would."

"Yeah, I guess I did do okay," I reflected.

"Mhmm, no more denial land for you," Lester chortled.

Sadly, there were a few things I was still in denial land about. However this experience helped free me from some of it. "Hey Les, Aeneas had mentioned me handing over the reigns to the Newark location of w*ish,"

"And," he prodded.

"And I was thinking that Allegra would be the perfect person to take up the mantle. She's been with me since I first opened the boutique, she's trustworthy and dedicated, and, I mean, today just highlights how amazing she is. She showed up in the middle of the night to help in anyway that she could because w*ish is important to her. It's the symbol of her fresh start as much as it is mine," I added as I watched her help Chase move the display tables to the side so the carpet could be replaced.

"She did go above and beyond today, and I think it's a good idea to give her an opportunity while giving yourself a break. I may not be a fan of Aeneas, but the man makes a good point; you're spread pretty thin and it's only going to get thinner as you open the additional w*ish locations," Lester agreed.

"Okay, I feel really good about this. I can't wait to see her face! She's been subtly angling for more responsibility, but I doubt she's expecting something this big," I announced, content with my decision. We spent a few minutes in silence, watching the commotion around us as the previously sleepy Newark street woke up and people headed to work for the day, curious as to what was going on at w*ish. Since this nightmare started, I had put off asking Lester for a favor that I knew I needed to voice before he left or I lost my nerve. I mustered the last of my adrenaline from the break in and turned in his embrace, the side of my face flush with his bicep. "Les, I know how you and Tank feel about honesty with the people closets to you, but I need a favor," I whispered, breath bated, waiting for his reaction.

He looked up to the trunk door that was suspended above us, the arm not around me clasped around the back of his neck. He finally turned to face me, his mossy stare holding my cerulean one, "I won't flat out lie, but since you're not a major client, I can gloss over w*ish in our weekly meeting with the rest of the Core Team and the second in commands for Boston and Miami," he promised.

"Tank?"

"Tank and I know that you reach out to him because you care about him and the raspberries and want to do what's right. Him reciprocating has to be because he wants to, not some misplaced sense of obligation because your property was vandalized. Tank also wants him to get his head out of his ass but he won't force things to play out before you or he are ready for the right reasons," Lester assured me, planting a kiss on my temple.

"Th-thanks Les," I replied in a sotto tone, giving him a quick hug and peck on the cheek before heading back into the fray.


	7. Chapter 4: Part 2

A/N: This is the **Second part of Chapter 4**. Apparently this is just what's going to happen. Be sure to read the first part or you'll miss what happens with the break in. Thanks for reading and all of the favorites/follows/reviews!

* * *

 **Part I. "A man, when he WISHes, is the master of his fate." - Jose Ferrer**

 **Chapter 4 - Part 2**

 **SP POV - 14 APR 2015**

It was Sunday evening by the time I was able to return Camilla's call. "Hey Cam, how was your weekend?" I queried while I watched over Serafina and Theo playing with their oversized legos on the blue, gray and white abstract patterned rug in the living room.

"Mine was nice and low-key, just like I like it. What I really want to know is how was _your_ weekend?" Camilla countered. I'd told her about the break in and status of the repairs Friday morning. It took everything I had to convince her not to drop everything to come help. By the time we'd talked, the Merry Men had fixed the major structural damage and my w*ish staff had everything else under control. Besides, she wasn't aware of my _relationship_ with RangeMan and I desperately wanted to keep it that way.

"Oh you know, a little vandalism, some window replacement. Same ol', same ol'," I quipped, partially distracted by the twins clanging the legos together in ill-fated attempts to get them to connect. I slid off the cerulean, suede sofa to give them a hand.

"Sure, break ins, no biggie!" she chortled. "So, how many times did you watch Ghostbusters to help you cope?" she asked jocularly.

"Eh… just a few. Actually, the twins love it so we watched it once for me and another two times for them," I replied cheekily, helping Theo successfully add a blue square to his lego tower and earning his excited clapping.

"And…"

"And what?" I replied.

" _And_ I heard from someone on your staff that you made a huge announcement at your 'Yay w*ish is back in business pizza party'. So? Spill!" Camilla demanded. I shouldn't really be surprised that somehow Camilla managed to scoop the big news I had to share with her.

"Mary Lou told you, didn't she?" I accused lightly as I watched Serafina fastidiously lining up legos on the skirt of her pink, linen dress that was fanned between her outstretched legs.

"I will never reveal my sources. Now, are the rumors true?"

"Yeah, in this case they are," I started to explain before being cutoff by Camilla's exuberance.

"Wow, I never thought I'd see the day… I'm so proud of you for taking this leap. I know how nerve-wracking it is to trust someone like this, but I really think it's for the best," Camilla gushed.

"Yeah, I'm glad I took Aeneas's advice. Allegra's going to do amazing as the manager and owner of w*ish Newark, really. You should've seen her helping me get things fixed this weekend," I expounded. "As unfortunate as the circumstances were, it made me realize that I can trust people to do w*ish proud, here and with the other locations we're gonna start moving forwards on."

"I'm glad you have her, she really is dedicated… So, how're you handling the changes?" she asked with a knowing, patient tone.

I huffed out a breath before sharing. I didn't tend to be big on sharing my feelings, but there was something about Camilla that made me trust her with personal things, feelings things. "Every other Sunday I would set the staff schedule for the next two weeks. I don't go to w*ish on Sundays except to handle the schedule a little after lunch while the twins are sleeping. They nap in their playpen in my office while I do the staff schedule and check out the current stock in the storeroom and take care of random paperwork," I explained.

"Mhmm," Camilla said, encouraging me to continue.

"So today the twins and I had a little picnic with some swinging and lunch. Once I get them back into their carseats, my initial instinct was to head to w*ish. I got halfway there before I realized I didn't have to go," I said, before adding "I _wasn't_ needed," in a whisper, picking at the dark blue rug strands.

"Steph, just cause you don't have to micromanage anymore doesn't mean your not needed. You've trained and taught your staff well. They know exactly what you expect and need and they want you to be proud of them. They need you, but you're at a point where they can take on more responsibility and you can focus on the myriad of other things you need to take care of," Camilla explained gently.

"Ugh, you're right. I know that, deep down, and I definitely don't want Allegra to think I'm hovering or don't trust her. It's just a big change to my day-to-day schedule, although it'll be nice to have all that extra time to focus on the w*ish designs, prep for the other locations and the twins," I conceded while cajoling Serafina to release the red rectangular lego she was currently gnawing on.

"Exactly. You're moving forward, that is always a good thing."

"And, Allegra was ecstatic. At first she kinda looked at me in shock, like she didn't understand what I was saying. Then it was just jumping and squealing and everyone looking at us like we were crazy until we told them the news," I added, reflecting on the pride Allegra took in her new position and how excited she was when we went over the paperwork and her expanded list of duties.

"What did everyone else say? More specifically, what did Mary Lou say?" she asked.

"Everyone joined in on our spastic jumping and giggling action, they were happy for her," I recalled, smiling at the memory. "I talked to Mary Lou after, while everyone was eating pizza. I think she was a little offended I didn't offer it to her first because we've been friends _forever_ , but she wouldn't even have taken the position. She only works part-time now and if something like a break in were to happen, between the commute and kids she wouldn't arrive until like four hours later. Also, I'm not a fan of nepotism. Allegra works _really_ hard, always asking to help and learn more from basic managerial things to estimating demand for designs so we can stock them appropriately," I defended.

"Hey, I'm with you, Steph. I was just wondering how Mary Lou handled it," Camilla rushed to say.

"Sorry, I know. I'm just a little on edge from my conversation with Mary Lou. She didn't really care about the job, just that I didn't offer it to her first out of some weird sense of solidarity," I added, a little frustration at the situation.

"That's crap! You _already_ gave her a job out of solidarity, her first job in like eight years because you're a good friend," Camilla huffed.

I laughed a little at her annoyance on my behalf. "I explained why I did what I did and she understood, reluctantly. She'll come around in a few weeks and it'll be like it never happened, like the time I told her crush in high school that she was talking to some other guy," I explained.

"How'd that play out?"

"Well, she was pissed that I messed things up for her and wouldn't talk to me for two days which was the time it took her crush to man up and make a move. She called to apologize after he asked her out. Personally, I feel like I should get some of the credit for the fact that they've been happily married for the past nine years!" I chortled. "It helps that Mary Lou agrees that Allegra deserves the opportunity," I added, lightly tickling the bottom of Theo's foot as he crawled toward the gray-blue, tufted pouf.

"She definitely deserves it, that's what's important. Everything with Mary Lou will work out. As a fellow business owner, you made the right call," Camilla offered.

"Thanks, it helps to hear that," I replied, watching as Theo grabbed the side of the pouf to try to hoist himself up but ended up plopping on his jean-clad bottom. He looked at me with his bottom lip pouted as he reached out to the pouf. I giggled a little at his adorableness and he snapped his amber gaze at me.

"M-M-Mama! Mama, Mama," he shouted, reaching his arms out to me to scoop him up with a toothy grin.

"Oh my gosh, was that what I thought it was?" Camilla squealed.

"Yeah! Wow! I gotta go, Cam. I'll talk to you later," I replied, hanging up before she had a chance to respond. "Theo, what did you just say?"

I crawled over to Theo to scoop him up and smack a kiss to his chubby, latte-hued cheek, eliciting another round of "Mama, Mama!" Hmmm, I wonder if I could get Serafina to copy him, she was pretty competitive and wouldn't like her brother being able to out do her in the vocabulary department.

* * *

 **Camilla Manoso POV - 23 SEP 2014**

I was anxiously waiting for Tucker to meet me at Grinders Cafe across from the stylish Maxwell Business Center with it's angled glass roof and classy, white granite features. I'd already ordered our drinks, a caramel macchiato for me and a chai latte for him. I'd consumed half of my scalding beverage while appreciating the kitschy decor when Tucker dropped into the wooden, bar-height chair across from me.

"Hey Cam," Tucker greeted me with his trademark, crooked smirk, taking a long drag of his beverage. "Now, what was so important that we had to have coffee _right_ here, _right_ now?"

"I wanted to officially extend and offer to you to join Mod Management as a co-owner," I said cheerily, enjoying the look of confusion on his face before it cleared into excitement.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he queried, anticipation tinting his tone. I nodded in reply, my ponytail bobbing against the back of my navy blazer, and he jumped up to give me a bone-crushing hug, pulling me into his lean frame. "I can't believe you finally agreed!"

Tucker had been trying to convince me to join him in starting our own company for the past couple years since we'd learned all we could from our employers on how to run a business, pitch to clients, and amass and asses market research. Until I quit a few days ago, I hadn't really felt the need to be my own boss. Now that I'd had time to really flesh out the idea, I couldn't imagine working anyplace other than Mod Management.

"Yeah, well… after I quit in a fit of pique, I ambled around downtown Newark to kill some time before I told my parents and I met the owner of this charming little boutique, w*ish. I ended up venting about my work frustration and she gushed about starting her own company and everything just sorta clicked into place. If we had our own company, we would be free to be as creative and innovating as we wanted for our clients," I explained with a grin.

"I'm so glad you finally came around! We are going to kick ass," he chortled.

"Mhmm. I've already looked into startup costs, equipment, software, office locations and adding to our client list," I listed on my white-to-magenta ombre manicured fingers. I saw Tucker smirk when he saw my nails; he had a theory that the more time-consuming and glitzy my manicure, the better my mood.

"Shit, you've been busy! Wh-hey, do we _already_ have clients?" he asked, befuddled.

"One," I replied, nodding with a satisfied grin. "The proprietor of w*ish, who helped me realize how great Mod Management is going to be. I may have strong armed her into hiring us, but it _still_ counts," I defended. "So, are you onboard Mr. Kruger?" I sassed with a head tilt and my hand held out for him to shake.

"I've been onboard Ms. Manoso, but you should know I require a bowl of assorted jelly beans at my desk to be replenished weekly," he replied, taking my hand.

"Done," I chortled, not at all surprised by his jelly bean stipulations. "Now, for our first order of business, we have a meeting at Maxwell Business Center to check out some office space," I announced, checking the time and hopping off my seat. I headed to the red, de-stressed door, fixing my navy, stovepipe slacks and was out on the side walk before I realized I was alone. I poked my head back through the door, my hand resting on the brass doorknob to find Tucker still seated at our table. "Tuck, come on!"

He shook his dirty blonde, faux-hawk topped head and stared at me. "You're amazing, Cam," he announced softly, getting up to join me, throwing his arm around my shoulders as we crossed the busy, New York City street.

* * *

 **Pierre 'Tank' Sherman POV - 14 APR 2015**

"Trenton, report," Ranger, my brother-in-arms and CEO of RangeMan Enterprises, barked, kicking off our weekly Monday meeting. For the past seven months, our meetings have been the epitome of pragmatic. No time was wasted on small talk or complete sentences when only a word or two would suffice. There was a clear format that we never strayed from: all three offices would 'report' news from the past week, we'd discuss any personnel issues and we'd finish with changes and improvements to procedures, services and equipment. It was basically the opposite of my monthly meetings with Stephanie.

"The new Salus Security system paraphernalia was delivered and we're installing them at ten high-risk locations. No news yet on their performance," I began, reclining in my office chair while I looked over the weekly summary documents on my desk.

"We're gonna put it through its paces during RangeWeek, right?", Bobby Brown clarified. Bobby was our team medic when we were Army Rangers and Lester's partner-in-crime. He, along with Ranger, Lester and I, made up the RangeMan Core Team and owners of RangeMan. When his and Ranger's last mission ended in September of 2014 after almost a year in the wind, he decided he wanted a change of scenery and moved to Boston.

"Correct. Continue," Ranger replied, ushering the meeting along. I could imagine him seated at his mahogany desk with light shining in from the picture window overlooking the shiny high-rises of downtown Miami, his blank face firmly in place as he perused the weekly status documents while Michael Sandoval, his second in command at RangeMan Miami, sat across from him and furiously took notes.

"Two new commercial clients, Dahlia's Diamonds and The Prescott Building. The latter required some hand holding but it's a huge account and worth it. One residential alarm which was the result of the client's 16 year-old daughter trying to sneak out of her bedroom window and one alarm for a business in downtown Newark. Our team responded within eight minutes and apprehended three perps who we handed over to the police department; there shouldn't be any future incidents," I explained swiftly.

"I just looked over the incident report for the storefront. Why did we take the contract? Our Newark clients are high end businesses or extremely wealthy families, this shouldn't be a client in the first place," Ranger stated more than asked. Ranger was a formidable force, with impeccable hand-to-hand combat skills, the ability to read anyone and a cunning strategical mind. All skills that have helped build RangeMan and have saved our asses time and again. Unfortunately, that means he can tell from the sparse information in the incident report and the fact that it was out of character for RangeMan to take on such a minor account that something was off.

Fortunately, Lester and I had come up with a believable way to stretch the truth. And even more fortunately for me, Lester lost our round on the mats this morning and has to be the only to sell our story. "RangeMan took the client at my request. My sister, Sofia, works there and convinced the owner to hire RangeMan. Some mild threats have been directed at the boutique and owner in the past and one of the employees has a criminal past. She's straight now but the vandalism was a result of her past affiliations," Lester explained.

"I see, anything else in Trenton?" Ranger replied gruffly, continuing on with our meeting, indicating that he believed our yarn.

"Nope, that's it," Lester replied with a relieved look in my direction. He slumped slightly in his seat across the desk from me, raking his hands through his carefully tousled, golden-brown hair as the meeting focused shifted from Trenton.

"Boston?"

* * *

 **SP POV - 15 APR 2015**

This is it, I thought, as I was walked back through the second house Gianna took the Serafina, Theo and I to visit. I was pushing the twins in their stroller as I ambled through what I was pretty sure was going to be our new home.

It was a two-story, mid-century modern in a gated community in Omni Park, an area populated by upper middle class residents. There was a huge backyard with a simple rectangular pool, well planned patio complete with a stone fire pit and barbecue area, perfect for spending time outside, and mono-pitched and flat roof sections. The exterior was comprised of gray roofs, garage door and accents around windows with white, stone walls. There was also a thick, gray-and-white stone exterior section that wrapped vertically from the front to the back of the house and coincided with the fireplace. The upstairs consisted of a master bedroom with a luxurious ensuite bathroom and to-die-for closet, two bedrooms with an adjoining bathroom and another room with great light, perfect for my office. The first floor had an open concept kitchen with a spacious breakfast nook separated from the dining room by a curtain wall. There was also a high-ceilinged living room, half bathroom and a guest bedroom with a smaller, ensuite bathroom.

I rolled the twins into the upstairs bedroom that was closer to the master room and glanced out of the large windows looking over the backyard. "Hey raspberries, this is going to be your new bedroom!"

My announcement was met with shouts of "Mama" from both twins and clapping. I guess it had received their seal of approval. Especially in comparison to the last house where Theo repeatedly threw his teething toy on the floor as hard as he could muster, really winding his arm back and Serafina's voice rang in a chorus of increasingly more frantic "bye, bye, bye." I figured she was either a closet N'Sync fan or it was just not the home for us.

I strolled back into the high-ceilinged kitchen, strumming my fingers along the black speckled with white granite countertops and island to find Gianna waiting by the large windows. "This is _it_!" I exclaimed, my excitement setting off the twins' giggles.

"You look good here. So, the price is within your range and since the finishing touches are still being added, you can pick out whatever hardware, accents, wall colors, carpet, tiles and appliances that you want," Gianna informed.

"Oh wow, that's great. It's a lot, but great," I replied, slightly overwhelmed with the stack of catalogues Gianna handed me to make my selections from. Luckily I had built up muscle carrying around the twins or I probably would've dropped them.

"So, it's within your range and the property is quite a catch. The school district is phenomenal, you're ten minutes from anything you could need, it has all of the security features you requested and it's a new neighborhood with other young families. Also, I talked to the developer and if you're willing to pay a little above asking, they'll put a rush on getting it finished up by the end of May by the latest," Gianna advised.

"Wow, I can't believe I'm actually buying a house," I whispered in awe, a wide smile spreading across my face.

"So, that's a yes?" Gianna asked cautiously.

"Definitely, it's a yes!" I replied, barely registering Gianna's quick hug before she headed into the living room area with her phone to move things along. "Welcome home, raspberries," I whispered, leaning over the back of the stroller to give Serafina and Theo kisses on their silky, espresso hair covered heads.

Several hours later, after the twins had fussily gone to bed I found myself sitting on my bed, leaning against the headboard with about a dozen opened catalogues of 'home stuff' surrounding me along with my laptop illuminating several Pinterest searches. Who knew there were so many types of fans, faucets and fixtures? Did I want chrome, brass, steel, bronze, black or white finishes on the fixtures? Was loop, pattern, texture, or frieze carpet construction most comfy? Or should I scratch the carpet and go with tile, marble or hardwood? And what the hell was the difference between a regular and convection oven?

After realizing I liked too many things and that several of them didn't really work together, I decided I needed to call in a profession. Luckily, she was still up and answered her phone after one ring, "Ella? I need help!" I exclaimed, slightly frantically. Ella was the housekeeper, chef and overall mother-hen at RangeMan who'd taken an instant liking to me as the only other female RangeMan Trenton employee. She was like the mother I wish I'd had, always supportive and gave constructive criticism and advice with my best interest in mind rather than issuing ultimatums for her own benefit. She even accompanied me to a Mommy and Me class once a month.

"Is it the twins? Are they okay?" came her worried response. "I can be ther-"

"No, sorry. Everything is fine, technically. I'm just having a little panic attack," I rushed to explain, wincing at having distressed her.

"Oh, thank goodness. What can I help you with mi hija (Spanish: my daughter)?"

"I have some news and I need a little help with it. I know you did the interior designing for RangeMan Trenton, and I was wondering if you could help me? There are so many options and I'm getting a little overwhelmed," I explained.

"Of course, although your apartment is pretty well put together," Ella responded, the telltale sound of an industrial washer filtering through the phone.

"Oh, right, I bought a house!" I announced, realizing that I was likely not going to tire of sharing this news for quite some time.

"Congratulations! I'm so excited for you!" she gushed, her voice rising a few octaves.

"Thanks Ella."

"I would love to help you design your home. When is a good time to meet and go over things?" she asked.

I glided my eyes over the plentiful catalogues that I needed to make choices from by May 1st, letting the excitement of picking details for our home replace the panic and a heartfelt smile replace the tension in my face.

* * *

AN: I'm sorry about the whole two part chapter thing - I've tried a few different things (including seeing if a new account would solve the problem), but this seems like the easiest solution for now. I hope you're enjoying the story and I'll do my best to have more ready soon!

Also, I'm doing my best to respond to all of the user reviews, but if I didn't get to you or you are a guest reviewer: thank you very much for you kind words and support; I appreciate them very much and I hope you continue to enjoy Make a Wish.


	8. Chapter 5

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thank you to everyone who's been sticking with and reading this story and to those of you who've favorited/followed/reviewed. I'm sorry for the almost 4 wk delay! (I still have no idea how the time got away from me- I think it was a combination of venue shopping for my sister's wedding, moving, the security clearance check that NEVER ended, and starting a new job. I can't explain how disappointed I am in myself, I really wanted one new chapter a week to be the minimum that I would post and from here on out, I will do my best to adhere to that.)

* * *

 **Part I. "A man, when he WISHes, is the master of his fate." - Jose Ferrer**

 **Chapter 5**

 **SP POV - 16 APR 2015**

Grandma Mazur and I had just tucked into a table at Budapest Cafe, the twins on either side of us in scuffed, wooden highchairs. I treated her to an early lunch whenever she accompanied me to a Mommy and Me class. I was watching the perspiration run down my glass of water before bubbling on the surface of the green, vinyl tablecloth while Grandma Mazur was ordering a baby-friendly goulash. "So," Grandma Mazur focused on me once the waiter left, "have you thought anymore about going out with that cute Bradley from Mommy and Me? He's a bit less rugged than your normal type, but the man can cook, which more than makes up for the lack of tree-trunk sized arms," she queried with a saucy eyebrow waggle.

"No," I chortled. "He's not really my type and I'm too busy to make time for dating," I added, helping Theo take a sip of water so he wouldn't accidentally bathe his train-themed t-shirt. He tended to use straws as an opportunity to blow bubbles and slosh liquid everywhere that could not be missed.

"Hmm, are you sure? Because he's always flirting with you, Amelia and the blond bimbo... what's her name? Tammy, Trina, Terry?" she clarified as she snapped Serafina's unicorn bib into place.

"Trisha. Terry's the name of Morelli's Mob Princess," I corrected. Throughout high school, Joe Morelli dated (and chronically cheated on) Terry Gilman nee Grizolli. Since then, she'd dyed her hair blond, surgically upgraded her bra-size, and taken a position as her Uncle Vito's bagman which made her occasional trysts with Morelli career suicide for both of them.

"Right. Well, if you're not gonna spank that, I think I will. Bradley could learn a lot from a mature, experienced woman like me," she announced excitedly, I could see her imagining how their meeting would go.

"Grandma, it's hit that, not spank that," I corrected, excited to see how flirty Chef Ames would handle the intensity that is Edna Mazur.

"Oh, I definitely meant spank," she sassed me with a wink, "I discovered spanking recently with Edgar Wilson from Springview Retirement Home."

"I didn't know you were dating someone!" I exclaimed, plating a little extra-mushy goulash for the twins before digging into my chicken paprikash.

"We're not exclusive. Besides, he can't really keep up with me in the bedroom. I wore the va-va-voom*ish bra and thong set you gave me a few months ago and I nearly killed him!" she announced proudly.

We spent the rest of the meal doting on the twins and discussing their newly acquired vocabulary of Mama and bye-bye, Grandma's dating life and upcoming birthday plans, and, of course, the break in so she could report the news to the girls at the Clip 'n Curl.

"So, you're telling me those hunky RangeMen caught the vandals but you didn't get to see anyone get roughed up?" she asked, aghast at the wasted opportunity.

"Nope, although I think they may have threatened them a little," I replied, wiping Theo's mouth and hands clean. Serafina was very intrigued by cutlery and always tried to mimic me and other adults by clumsily wielding her plastic, daisy covered fork and spoon I kept in the diaper bag. Theo was more concerned with getting the food into his belly, a trait I assume he gets from me. As a result, he usually had food smeared on his hands, face, bib, and, occasionally, in his hair.

"Why're you cleaning him up? He's just gonna get dirty again with dessert," Grandma asked.

"Dessert?" Since joining RangeMan three years ago, my dessert addiction had been curbed significantly. It cropped up again around the fourth month of my pregnancy, but I managed to keep it in check to keep the raspberries healthy and avoid blowing up like my sister tended to do when pregnant. I'd heard her complain about losing the baby weight enough times to know I didn't want to make it more challenging than it was already going to be.

"It's tradition! Don't you remember?" Grandma asked, shocked that I'd forgotten as the waiter brought out a warm, powdered sugar covered raspberry palacsinta. I smiled as the memory of our first shared dessert at the Budapest Cafe washed over me, nodding at Grandma as she cut two bite-sized pieces for the twins to taste.

* * *

 **Edna Mazur POV - 11 JAN 2014**

"Thanks for making time for this," Stephanie said softly as we settled into a booth at Budapest Cafe in Newark. I'd always cooked traditional Hungarian food for Stephanie when she came to hide out with me; I figured after the horrible way Helen reacted to the news of Stephanie's pregnancy last night, she was in need of some comfort food. Well, that and cake. "It was really nice of Mrs. Patterson to bring you all the way out here."

"Nonsense," I waved her comments away with my hand, "of course talking to you was my priority after Helen's behavior yesterday. And Irma was coming up to Newark anyways to visit a fella she's been seeing on the sly for the last few months!" I added gleefully. I was thrilled to have the inside scoop on Irma's scandalous relationship that began several months prior to her very recent widow-hood; I would be in high demand at the Clip 'n Curl tomorrow! I could probably even get Clara to throw in a free pedicure because it's always packed when someone has juicy gossip. "Besides, I needed to tell you how proud I am of you, for standing up to your mother and doing what is right for you and the buns in your oven."

"R-raspberries, I've been calling them my raspberries, it's the size they were when I first found out about them" Stephanie shared, sincerity in her eyes as the waitress ambled up, notepad in hand and took our orders. Stephanie filled me in on the doctor's visit she'd had so far, her first ultrasound picture and I commiserated with her on the no boozing and joy of morning sickness. Once our entrees were ordered, I decided to get to the good stuff.

"So, Steph, who's the baby daddy?" I queried as conversationally as I could before taking a bite of a rather tasty goulash, almost like my nagymama (Hungarian: grandmother) used to make.

Unfortunately, Stephanie had just taken a sip of water and started coughing dramatically, dripping onto the green tablecloth while a blush infused her clear from her neck to the tips of her ears. Once she'd got her breathing under control she replied, "Grandma, it's not that I don't trust you, because I do. It's just that I haven't really had the chance to talk to him about everything and I'm not sure how I feel about other people knowing first, especially since I don't know what his reaction or involvement will be."

I understood and respected her point of view. Gossiping was the official pastime of the Burg and Stephanie was often a highlighting topic because of her interesting, adventure-filled life. I'm ashamed to say that even us, her family, were guilty of adding fodder to the gossip flame on occasion. I was confident Frank and I could be trusted with this news, it was too important and we would do everything to protect and support Stephanie and her raspberries. Hmm… I liked the whole raspberries nickname, but it lacked punch. I think I'll call them gummy bears, candy is so much more exciting than fruit! Helen though, she'd be on the phone within seconds lamenting to anyone who would listen.

Of course it was a little late to respect Stephanie's wishes now, as I'd spent most of the previous evening and night brainstorming who this mysterious baby daddy could be. She hadn't been officially dating anyone for a few years, the handful of dates she went out on while she worked at E.E. Martin after her divorce went nowhere and recently, she'd been mostly working either on her own business or at RangeMan. Of course, once I'd realized this, it was obvious who he was. Sure there were a ton of males in her life, between her impossibly handsome and manly colleagues at RangeMan to her associates at the police station and the random friends she'd accumulated over the years, but I only saw her with one person where the sexual chemistry was palpable.

"Steph, I know," I said softly, "but I respect your choice, and I'll keep your secret," I added solemnly, reaching out to place my hand on top of hers where it rested near her glass of water as I enjoyed her shocked expression. Good to know I could still surprise her.

"Wha-bu-I don't… h-how? How did you figure it out?" she finally managed to voice, her meal forgotten as she stared blankly at me.

"I met him once, when you were in the hospital after getting knocked out by an explosion while looking for Uncle Fred. I walked in and the two of you were having a battle of the wills, you wanted to leave and-"

"And he wanted me to stay for observation," Stephanie added with a wistful smile, her azure eyes hazy with the memory.

"Mhmm. He forbade you from leaving before the doctors were through with you in an eerily calm tone and while he was storming out you introduced him to me as one of the men who's company you work for," I recalled the memory I'd gone over countless times last night, imagining his stealthy, panther-like movements, carefully masked facial expressions, and dark, assessing gaze. "There was just so much tension in the air. I wasn't sure if you were gonna tear each other apart or give me a free show! I could tell right then, that there would be sparks when you two finally got together," I explained.

"Heh," she huffed. "I don't know about sparks, but we did make these little guys," she added, hand on her belly.

"Yeah you did!" I added with a saucy wink, hoping to keep our conversation light after last night's fiasco. "You had 50% Hungarian hormones coupled with an adonis with what I hope was a very impressive package and, _apparently_ , super sperm."

"Grandma!" Stephanie exclaimed, looking around to see if anyone overheard before joining me in cachinnation and earning us a few surreptitious glances by fellow patrons.

Once we'd both settled down, I came to my final motivation for this lunch. I gingerly pulled a small package wrapped carefully in white tissue paper out of my oversized, red pleather purse with gold accents. I brushed a hand delicately over it, remembering when my favorite aunt, who in actuality was a close friend of my mother's, who'd given it to me many, many years ago as she welcomed me into motherhood. It had been passed down from mother to daughter over the years until her. My 'aunt' had fallen in love with a boy she grew up with and promised to wait for him when he was conscripted and left to fight in World War I. Unfortunately, he never returned, but her love persevered and she chose to become a nurse and remain unmarried, the ultimate icon of feminism in my mind (although Betty Frieden comes in as a close second). My Aunt Serafina.

"I brought this for you, it was given to me by my Aunt Serafina when I was first pregnant," I explained, delivering the package across the table to Stephanie who carefully began unwrapping it, folding back the layers of tissue paper to reveal a white, feathery-soft, crocheted baby blanket with a unique tread pattern stitch and scalloping around the edges.

"Grandma, th-this is beautiful," she whispered in awe, her eyes rheumy as she ran her fingers over the blanket, "but I can't accept this, it's yours and it's too much."

"That's why I saved it for you instead of letting your mother give it to Valerie. You value it, you know what it means and what it's worth," I replied, brushing a few stray tears off my cheek. "I want you to have it, to feel the same love and support I did when it was given to me."

"Thank you, this means more than I can say. I know how important Aunt Serafina was to you," she replied sincerely, bundling the blanket back up.

Our exchange and the heavy atmosphere was dissipated by our waitress approaching us, her handy notepad poised at the ready. "Are you ready for dessert?"

"Absolutely, what are our options?" I replied sunnily.

"Well, we have Gundel palacsinta, indianer, Malna Piskotatekercs, Esterhazy-" she explained, tapping her pen thoughtfully on her notepad.

"The Malna Piskotatekercs, definitely," I interjected, gleeful at our luck.

"What's that?" Stephanie queried of the waitress.

"Basically, it's a sponge cake filled with raspberries and whipped cream and rolled like a jellyroll. It's delicious," she offered, marking down our order before heading back through the double swinging doors to the kitchen.

"Raspberry and whipped cream yumminess, the perfect way to celebrate the news of your raspberries!" I toasted. "If only we could eat it off of that well-muscled baby daddy of yours," I added, earning a giggle from Stephanie and a knowing glint in her eye.

* * *

 **SP POV - 17 APR 2015**

The twins and I were spending a relaxing evening with one of those inescapable baby shows with sing-a-longs, interactive sections and cartoon zoo animals. I was mostly watching their gleeful expressions as they enjoyed their post dinner tv time, clapping, giggling and babbling baby talk at the hippopotami onscreen while seated on the living room floor in a collapsable playpen. I was slightly saddened to see that Theo seemed to be growing out of his '#ladiesman' t-shirt from Lester (definitely preferable to the 'I had BOOBS for breakfast' t-shirt but not as cute as the 'My Mom's outta your league' one, also gifts from Lester).

I was distracted by my phone ringing and absentmindedly answered with a "hey," my gaze fixed on the bobbing sit-dancing Serafina and Theo were currently engaged in.

"Steph, you _have_ to help me, he's gonna be here in like 30 minutes and I _still_ can't decide on a freakin' dress!" I heard Victoria's frantic shriek. "In college I dated a lot but this isn't like meeting up some stranger I just met at the quad. It's Duncan, who I've known for years, who's seen me almost cry after arguments with my mom over letting Olivia follow her own career path," Victoria continued, puttering out a bit at the end.

I almost couldn't believe it, unflappable, ball-busting Victoria Slade was anxious. And not just a little anxious but full on babble inducing anxious. The last time I'd experienced this was when she told Calista and I that she suspected her college boyfriend was cheating on her. Turns out she was right and their epic blowout culminated in him tripping (though several witness reported he'd been shoved) into the large splash fountain on Livingston Campus at Rutgers and all of the his crap at our apartment was left in a scavenger hunt from hell for him to find all over campus in locations marking highlights of their relationship. Sure it wasn't as iconic as the bonfire I'd set up with Dickie's things on our lawn, but it was still pretty spectacular.

"Whoa, Vic, calm down," I replied, halting her rant. "First of, you're like leggy model gorgeous, so there's literally nothing you could wear that would look bad. Sec-"

"What about the gaucho pant fiasco of 2006. It was _terrible_ , I still have nightmares," she interrupted melodramatically.

"Victoria! Calm down, okay? Now, what do you have in either silver or grey?" I asked, knowing it would make her blue-grey eyes pop.

"Lemme check," she said over the sound of hangers being tossed about and clothing being ruffled through. "I have a silvery bodycon sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline, a light silver flowy grecian dress with an asymmetric hem that hits little above the knees at its longest, and a dark grey halter dress that's backless with sheer fabric above the bust and has a high waisted flirty skirt."

"I vote for the third option, it's fun and less structured than what you normally wear to work," I replied as I ambled into the kitchen for a glass of water.

"Are you sure I shouldn't go with the bodycon dress? It's super s. e. x. y.," she added thoughtfully.

"Okay, first off, why are you spelling the word sexy?" I whispered, peeking over at the twins to make sure they were too preoccupied by animated fun to overhear and add 'sexy' to their current vocabulary of Mama and bye-bye. Although, Grandma would _love_ that.

"I'm spelling it because the last time I said it in front of the twins like a month ago you freaked out, convinced they were gonna repeat it and say it all the time," she huffed indignantly.

"Okay, but we're on the phone, they can't hear you. They're don't have like super-sonic hearing or anything," I explained before draining my glass of water and placing it in the dishwasher.

"Well, with their daddy being who he is, I'm no so sure about that…" she teased before refocusing on her date dress dilemma. "So, no bodycon?"

"Definitely not. It's a first date, not a night bumping and grinding in a club. You're gonna be driving into the city to hang out and spend some non-work time together," I defended.

"Yea-wait, we're going into New York? Oooh, that sounds more exciting than date night in boring Newark!" she squealed.

"Shi-sh-shoot," I huffed, "sorry, I didn't know you didn't know. You better act _all_ kinds of surprised," I demanded.

"I will, promise. So, do you have any other date details?" she hedged optimistically.

"Nope, I know no other details regarding Dating Duncan, have fun and I expect details tomorrow at our picnic!" I announced before quickly hanging up and heading back into the living room to see what my raspberries were up to.

* * *

 **SP POV - 18 APR 2015**

It was a perfect early summer day in New Jersey. There was a light breeze flitting through the air, toying with the chartreuse leaves of the large maple trees dotting the park. Victoria and I were pushing Serafina and Theo respectively on the black rubber baby swings (that I may have generously doused in hand sanitizer) and listening to their babbling commentary on Victoria's description of her date last night.

"So, how did the cooking class go?" I asked.

"Well," she drawled slowly, turning to me with a face-splitting grin, "it was amazing! We got to spend time together and talk and flirt. I know we see a lot of each other for work, and that's always fun, but last night was just way more than I ever thought a first date could be," she gushed dreamily.

"So, it was worth the wait?"

"Definitely!"

"Was what worth the wait?" Calista said, bounding up to us from the parking area to our left with a paper bag swinging from her hand. She circled us and the swings to greet the twins with kisses and quick ruffles to their hair which they poutily protested.

"The time it took Duncan to finally ask me out," Victoria explained, holding back Serafina's swing instead of pushing it forward again. She poked her head around to blow a loud raspberry on Serafina's cheek, eliciting a stream of babbles and giggles.

"Oooh, date details with Doable Duncan! Tell us everything." Calista demanded.

"Ugh, still with the nicknames?" Victoria groused, rolling her eyes and tossing her platinum, graduated bob at our smirks and nods. "And calm down, nosy. So, why were you late?" Victoria directed at Calista.

"Yeah! You missed the blueberries and slide time," I added with faux shock.

"Now what could be so important that you'd skip out on slide time?" Victoria teased.

"What? You guys started eating without me? Uncool!" she scoffed, sidestepping the requested explanation for her tardiness.

"You know what… I think I know where our Miss Cooper's been," Victoria continued.

"I think you're right," I prodded.

"Yup, she's got a dewy, satisfied glow, slightly disheveled clothes, mussed hair…" Victoria assessed, finger tapping against her boysenberry hued lips.

"Not to mention the tell tale hickey," I added, smug at Calista's discomfort and embarrassment. "Very classy Counselor."

"Wha-hey! There are children present. Young, impressionable children," Calista countered, disheveled, dirty blonde hair billowing around while her hands were akimbo and resting at the waist of her darkwash jeans.

"Seriously though, Coop. When are you two going to make it official? It's been almost a year!" I asked.

"A year and two months, actually," Calista corrected automatically before staring at us wide-eyed, realizing that perhaps she was a bit more invested than she'd let herself recognize.

"Okay ladies, I think it's picnic time," I announced, scooping a slightly dismayed Theo out of his swing and heading towards a weathered, oak picnic table Victoria and I'd claimed earlier. From the look of shock and confusion on Calista's face, I figured she could use a break from boy talk.

The five of us headed towards our picnic table, the shade of a towering maple tree allowing streams of warm sunlight to splay over our tempting spread of greek salad, finger sandwiches, red velvet cupcakes and garbanzo bean puree.

* * *

 **SP POV - 18 FEB 2005**

"See, I told you it would work!" I announced triumphantly as Cooper and I headed into Vibe, a popular club near campus. We'd donned our clubbing finest and managed to skip the line of our peers that wrapped around the building with some rather impressive fake ID's and a little flirting with Bear, the bearded bouncer.

"Yeah, yeah. But did we have to do this tonight?" Calista whined. We'd been roommates for a little over a semester and I had demanded we go out and celebrate her newly found single-dom.

"Yup," I replied tartly as we snaked through the pulsing, dancing mob towards the illuminated, cyan bar counter visible in the gaps between various patrons. We found a spare stretch of bar and quickly caught the attention of a lean bartender with a detailed, full sleeve involving swirling tribal patterns. "Hi! Can we get two kamikaze shots and two long island ice teas please," I shouted over Ciara singing about her goodies.

The bartender gave me a nod and a few minutes later, we were walking towards one of the cyan, round, bar height tables, nursing the sting from the shot with our alcoholic ice teas.

"So, _this_ is being single?" Calista commented, taking in the uplighting, bass-heavy music and heavily buzzed individuals hooking up.

"Well, not _this_ specifically," I countered, gesturing haphazardly at our surroundings. "Being single is about possibilities, anything is possible and nothing is holding you back."

"Hmm," Calista bobbed her head thoughtfully, "I guess it's just a big change. Up until four days ago, the rest of my life felt more or less planned out and now… now things are open and uncertain."

"Undecided, not uncertain," I corrected. "It's a good thing. Did you really think a future as Mrs. Davenport was the real you?"

"We started dating so young and back then everything was exciting and new. And I guess I never noticed when it changed to being dull and monotonous with a side a subtle pressure to be his version of better."

"Ugh, asshole. You _are_ better, better than he deserves!" I retorted hotly. I'd noticed that Calista was much more vibrant when she was just being herself and not around her ex. "See, single with endless opportunities to find someone who gets the real you is infinitely preferable to being stifled and forced into a stuffy, waspish existence and way too many social encounters with Reid's parents."

"Yeah, I don't have to put up with them anymore! Wow, that is some major silver lining. No more, 'Reid, are you _sure_ you don't want to show Slutty McStuckup around, her parents are dear friends from the country club and she's newly single' or 'Callie, is _that_ what you're wearing tonight? Wouldn't you have been more comfortable in something less thrifty'. Well bitch, my name is Calista, not Callie, and if you want me in couture to show off to your awful friends you're gonna have to buy it for me because I don't treat my parents like walking ATMs and Macy's is at the upper end of my budget!" Calista vented.

"Good riddance!" I cheered, toasting her with my partially finished drink.

"You're right, Steph. I'm not really sad about our relationship being over. I'm just pissed at how Reid did it," Calista huffed angrily.

"Mhmm, although, I didn't really expect any better from the youngest Dr. Davenport," I snarked. I had gone with Calista to what was supposed to be a chill family barbecue at Reid's parents' house and his older brother introduced himself pretentiously as Dr. Davenport despite the fact that he's only like 4 years older than we are and, more importantly, has yet to finish medical school. He replied to my calling him out on it by saying it was inevitable, all the men in his family became doctors and people might as well get used to calling him that. Umm… no thanks, douche!

"Oh my gosh, did you just say Davenport? As in Reid Davenport?" asked a willowy blonde who was holding two shots of something that looked like tequila and eyes wide with shock and indignation. She was wearing a red dress that hugged her curves, slightly smudged makeup that looked like she'd rubbed it away in frustration.

"Umm… yeah?" I said slowly, hoping that things weren't about to get awkward.

"What an asshole! Right? Can I sit here?" she plopped down at the remaining stool without waiting for an answer and downed one of her shots with a grimace. "I've just barely escaped from him and the blind date from hell."

"Wha-What?! You were just on a date with Reid Davenport?" I exclaimed, outraged at how quickly he'd moved on.

"Ugh, yeah. My mom guilt tripped me into going and he was every bit the pompous asshole I expected. He was so awful, just going on and on about himself and his family and what a life with him would be like. I finally got the waiter, who Reid was embarrassingly rude to by the way, to help me escape."

"I'm sorry you had such a crappy night," Calista said, her brow furrowing at this recent development in Reid's dating life. Despite the fact that she was coming to terms with the breakup, it was still pretty raw.

"Eh, at least I got a pretty good story out of it," she shrugged. "So, how do you two know him?"

"Well… Up until he dumped me on Valentine's Day, we'd been dating since we were 15," Calista explained dryly.

"On Valentine's Day? Seriously? This is the same guy who's mother thinks she and her family are superior because of their class?" our new friend queried.

"Some class," I snorted. "He basically told Calista that she didn't have the right pedigree to be his future trophy wife."

"And apparently he followed our breakup by interviewing new girlfriends," Calista quipped, sloshing a little of her drink onto the illuminated table. "Pig."

"Mhmm. Oh, I'm Stephanie and this is Calista," I introduced us as I had finally realized that we'd skipped that step. My mother, miss manners, would be oh so disappointed.

"I'm Victoria, it's great to meet you!" she replied with a blinding smile and gave me a similar jolt as when I first met Calista and knew instantly that we were going to be besties.

* * *

 **SP POV - 18 APR 2015**

"Whoa!" I exclaimed over the twins' giggles. Calista and I were see-sawing with the twins while Victoria was snapping a few quick pictures on her phone. She'd taken a photography class on semester and had dubbed herself official picture taker for the twins once they were born. Personally, I thought it was because she wasn't all that confident around babies having been born in a 'nannies take care of babies' and 'children should be seen, not heard' environment. She's warmed up to the twins since her first attempt at holding Serafina when she immediately handed her off to Calista with a look of terror on her face, but she's still a little more comfortable with the hands off stuff. On the upside, my baby albums have some really great candid shots.

"So," Victoria said, "how are things at w*ish since the break in?"

"It's going okay. We got the place squared away that weekend and there was no down turn in customer traffic or anything," I explained, pushing off the ground to bounce Theo and my end of the see-saw. "And the schedule for interviewing the new w*ish location owners is set so Reggie and I are all set to start traveling for that in May."

"And…" Victoria prodded, expertly manicured eyebrow arched up.

"And what?" I replied.

"You know what, Steph. Dish," Calista demanded knowingly as she hooked her arms a bit tighter around Serafina in a particularly adorable lady bug covered dress with matching headband across her forehead.

Things had been… tense with Mary Lou since she found out I'd promoted Allegra as the new Newark w*ish storefront owner. I'd explained why Allegra deserved the opportunity and responsibility over any of my other employees, including her, but she was still a little stiff with me despite the fact that I knew she understood and deep down agreed with with my decision. "I think Mare just needs a little more time before we can go back to normal."

"I can't believe she's freezing you out because of this," Victoria rolled her eyes in response.

"Yeah! It's not like she doesn't agree with your decision," Calista huffed.

"Ugh, whatever, she'll get over it eventually. I've got too much on my plate to apologize for making the right decision," I added with a shake of my head, tossing my curly, brown hair around. "Now, back to more important things. Vic, Coop and I will be needing details on your date with Debonaire Duncan!"

"Mhmm," Calista agreed with a gleeful glint in her eye. "Do tell about Dreamy Duncan."

* * *

 **SP POV - 21 APR 2015**

I finished compiling a list of the final candidates for w*ish franchise owners and emailed it to Tank and Lester; they generously offered to run background checks for me before I finalized my meetings which would start in a few weeks and hopefully be done by the end of May. I shut down my laptop just as I heard Theo's babbling over the baby monitor. Perfect timing, I thought as I headed into the nursery.

I entered the zoo-themed nursery to find Theo determinedly trying to pull himself up by the railing of his chestnut crib, looking especially adorable in his fleece pants with a bear face on his bottom, and Serafina babbling nonsense interspersed with 'Mama' and 'bye-bye'. "Hey raspberries!" I announced my presence, earning excited squeals and some semi-coordinated clapping. I scooped the twins out and, after a quick diaper check, I settled us on the colorful, plush rug covered in zoo animals between the two cribs with two set of stacking cups.

I played with Theo and Serafina while discreetly looking over the notes I'd made for decorating our future home. I had a pretty clear idea on what I wanted the overall feel of each of the rooms to be along with a few options for all accompanying the furniture and accents. The backyard would have comfy yet outdoor appropriate teal cushioned chaise lounges for the pool and matching crescent love seats and ottomans for the fire pit and barbecue area. The kitchen, breakfast nook, dining area, living room and half bath would feature ebony and grey toned contemporary furniture with amethyst, white and silver details. I was planning on dressing my bedroom and bathroom in caribbean blue, white and silver. My office would be bathed in light yellow, grey and white furniture and decor which would complement the large, bay windows. I was planning on using one of the remaining two bedrooms as the twins' superhero themed nursery replete with vintage poster prints until they were ready for separate bedrooms.

The only room I was undecided about was the downstairs guest bedroom and ensuite bathroom. Despite all of the interesting design ideas I'd scoped out on Pinterest, Dot & Bo, HGTV and houzzdotcom, I kept circling back to a simple, functional style with sleek furniture in black and cappuccino hues. A style that was uncomfortably reminiscent of Ella's decorative choices for the apartments in the RangeMan building on Haywood and led me to be frustrated with my apparently very hopeful subconscious. My very annoying, hopeful subconscious which was currently pissing me the hell off.

How is it that after all this time, after the heartbreak and anger and, most importantly, being a single parent to twins, my first thought with respect to the guest room was him and how I could tailor it to his minimalist style. Besides, it had been almost two years, it was stupid to hold onto the possibility that things could still change or that he'd even be in a position to use the guest room. Honestly, I'm always a bit surprised whenever my thoughts automatically go to him when I'm making decisions regarding the twins' lives. Given the regularity with which it happens, I should be used to it. I suppose that despite the rough way things ended and the lack of any effort to reach out on his part, I still feel like I have the measure of the man that he is, deep down at his core. The good guy that's masked by the hard choices he's had to make and the swift ruthlessness with which he pursues a target. And the good guy that I knew, that I fell in love with, would demand to be a part of his children's lives, regardless of how he felt about their mother. He would consider it a duty and an honor. The man he was before I knew him would at the very least show support fiscally and the man he grew to be over the almost year and a half I worked with him wouldn't shy away from being in his children's lives emotionally and physically as well.

Heh, I thought sardonically, I actually _miss_ him. That's why I consider his absent opinion and preferences in matters concerning the twins and decorating the guest room in his children's home. It seems slightly masochistic after everything to miss him, but there it is. I just need to constantly remind myself that I miss him for the twins and _only_ for the twins. They _deserve_ a daddy who will love them, support them and teach them life lessons; that is the _only_ capacity in which I'm allowing myself to miss him. Anything more poses too great a risk to my sanity and my heart.

I was jostled back to the present by Theo launching a small red cup at Serafina's meticulously crafted cup tower and causing it to collapse much to his glee and his sister's confusion. I scooped Serafina up into my arms and blew a noisy raspberry onto her tummy to replace the slight welling of tears in her eyes with laughter. After gathering their stacking cups back up, the three of us started constructing their cup towers once again.

* * *

 **SP POV - 22 APR 2015**

I was woken from a dream involving Thor, whipped cream and hot fudge by my phone ringing. I reached clumsily over to my bedside table to accept the call while fervently hoping it wouldn't be a repeat of her frantic phone call six months ago when she and her friends called from a tattoo parlor and were contemplating the pros and cons of tongue, belly button, nipple and clit piercings. Luckily, I'd been able to talk her into a harmless henna tattoo instead. Unfortunately, my mother didn't see it that way when grandma proceeded to show any and everyone her new stamp tramp.

"Hello?" I mumbled blearily, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

"Steph? Stephanie, is that you?" I heard Grandma Mazur's gleeful shout over a cacophony of other ambient noises blare through my phone speaker.

"Yeah, Grandma, it's me. What's going on? Aren't you supposed to be in Atlantic City with your friends?" I queried, confused that she was calling me when we'd already made plans to get together tomorrow for lunch to celebrate her birthday.

"Well, I didn't need to call a ride because Eleanor is calling Lucille for a ride because she didn't get arrested. But, I made quite the fuss and couldn't pass up the opportunity to make my _one_ phone call, so I thought I'd check in with you!" she announced, clearly tipsy and definitely enjoying her buzz.

I bolted upright in bed at her news. "Grandma! You're arrested? Is everything okay? Do you want me to come? I can be there in a fe-".

"N-nope," she stuttered due to a hiccup, "no need, I just wanted to let you know that I had an amazing birthday! Thank you for the tickets to Stud-O-Lick-Us!"

"You mean the tickets to Stud-O-Luscious?" I chortled. I learned from Lula that a male revue show was touring the east coast and would be in Atlantic City during the week of grandma's birthday and bought tickets for her and her friends as part of her gift.

"Yeah, that! Anyways, after the buffet and an afternoon of drinking and gambling, the girls and I headed to the show. So this muscle-bound, dark chocolate god is dancing and he starts off in Navy dress whites be-" she stopped talking to me to yell at someone in the background. "Where was I?"

"The hunky Navy guy was dancing," I offered.

"Right, so he's dancing super sexy, like that handsome Channing Tatum in Magic Mike XXL, and starts taking off his clothes until he's only in this American Flag underwear without the back. What's that called again?" she asked someone near her given the slightly muted tone of her voice. "Right, a thong. I guess there's no special name if it's for a man."

"Hmm, god bless America," I mumbled as my mind built a very intriguing visual.

"His package was huge and flopping around and I remembered Lula mentioning how once you go black you never go back because they're bigger and bigger is always better!" she giggled lasciviously and I could almost hear her smirking through the phone.

"Grandma… what did you do?" I asked cautiously.

"Well… Henrietta dared me to figure out if the rumor was true, so I reached out and-"

"Tell me you didn't!" I pleaded as a vision of grandma groping and traumatizing a chiseled and waxed ebony adonis.

"Of course I did, I'm no nancy! So, I reached out and grabbed a hold of his package, and what a _fine_ package it was," grandma recalled wistfully. "I guess I surprised him, must not be used to such forward women, and when he jerked away his snap-on thong snapped off which started a riot!"

"Oh, wow. Are you and your friends okay?"

"Don't worry about me baby granddaughter. Eleanor, Henrietta and I were arrested and Lucille and Gina are on their way to pick us up. The cops took our mugshots and fingerprints and everything! I can't wait to tell everyone at the Clip 'n Curl."

"Well, I'm sorry your fun got cut short," I offered.

"What? It was the best birthday ever! And, I got a souvenir, the stripper's American Flag thong! Which I better get back from the fuzz," she shouted the last bit at a cop, I assumed.

"I'm sure they'll give it back to you, it's not really evidence."

"I'm hoping if things work out with the new hottie on my radar I can get him to model the thong for me! I've got a date with Lucille's brother Luke who moved back to Trenton recently to be near his kids and grandkids. I really hope his package measures up to-" she stopped to say something to Eleanor before returning to me, "hey, Steph, our ride's here. I'll see you tomorrow for my birthday dinner, okay?"

"I thought we were having birthday lunch after Mommy and Me?" I queried.

"Well, we're planning on hitting a bar and a maybe doing some dancing, so I think it would be best to reschedule. I need my beauty sleep, after all."

"Sounds good. Let me know if you need help with the whole arrest thing and I can't wait to hear more about Luke tomorrow."

"Okay baby granddaughter, oh and I called in a replacement to help out with the twins tomorrow morning. Have a good night!" she replied and hung up before I could ask about her Mommy and Me stand in.

I shot my phone an incredulous look before flopping unceremoniously back down into bed. It was barely 11:30 pm and Grandma Mazur had gone gambling, accosted a male entertainer, caused a riot and been to the pokey. Talk about over achieving!


	9. Chapter 6

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thank you to everyone who's been reading along and for sticking with this story despite my complete disregard for the update schedule I wanted to adhere to. I had a death in the family recently and it's really thrown me off balance. I appreciate all of you who've been and are still reading along and I am deeply appreciative of your kind words, likes and favorites. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 **Part I. "A man, when he WISHes, is the master of his fate." - Jose Ferrer**

 **Chapter 6**

 **SP POV - 23 APR 2015**

A slight jingling sound, courtesy of the ever festive cluster of hanging door bells, punctuated my entrance into Mommy and Me. This month it was pastel colored easter eggs. I gave everyone settling in for class a once over, looking for whomever Grandma Mazur had called in as her replacement. I was just about to give up and find a space in our class circle when Bradley plopped down dramatically causing his son, Parker, and a few of the other munchkins to giggle and leaving me with a clear view to a slightly anxious Mary Lou Stankovic.

I shook off the shock when I registered her waving to me before heading over to her. Mommy and Me was one of the parenting things we disagreed on. She found it to be a waste of money and time perpetrated by reality television. Honestly, there wasn't a lot about parenting that we did see eye-to-eye on, we both just had different styles. Well, except for wanting to spend hands on time with our children, to teach them values and basically make sure they grow up to be good, ethical people and know they're loved. Huh, I suppose we agree on the most important things.

I handed Serafina, dressed in a ruffly dress in several shades of orange, to Mary Lou before sitting down on the large, polka-dotted floor pillow with a plaid-clad Theo in my lap. I nudged Mary Lou lightly with my shoulder, "thanks for covering for Grandma," I greeted her with a small smile.

She nodded in response, following the Patricia Lattimer's directions to help Serafina stretch. "I… Steph, I just… I wanted to say I'm sorry for how I… how I handled you promoting Allegra," Mary Lou whispered at me while keep her focus fixed stiffly on Serafina.

"I'm sorry I hurt you with my decision, but Allegra's always been looking for opportunities to take on more responsibility and coming up with new ideas to help improve w*ish," I offered while guiding Theo's left foot slowly to his right ear while he wiggled on his back.

"I get that. I do, but I guess I just felt that as your best friend since we were practically their age," she said, tousling Serafina's hair, "I kinda felt like you should've picked me regardless," Mary Lou explained hurriedly at Patricia's look of disapproval, shrugging her shoulders slightly and still avoiding looking directly at me.

I knew I made the right decision, promoting Allegra over anyone else who currently worked at the Newark location of w*ish, there was no doubt in my mind. And, despite considering her for a brief moment because of our long-standing friendship, I didn't really see Mary Lou as a viable w*ish franchise owner, especially since she'd need to physically manage and handle a lot of the day-to-day operations to maintain w*ish's reputation and maximize on profitability.

After a few minutes and Patricia no longer casting her gaze at us every other minute I decided to attempt an explanation one last time. I knew Mary Lou said she accepted my decision, but I wanted her to hear my reasoning with an open mind. "Mare, I _did_ consider you at first, for a moment, but our friendship would be the only reason that I would have chosen you. I mean, you do great work when you come in and you get along great with all of the other w*ish employees and customers, but you only work part-time and w*ish doesn't even make it into your top five priorities." I hurried my explanation seeing Mary Lou's shoulders stiffen, albeit more subtly after Patricia shook her head at me. "I get that you have more important things going on in your life, but this was me handing over a piece of my dream, something I've worked on for the past several years. And I needed to trust the person to make w*ish a priority and to handle operating it with integrity."

"So you don't _trust_ me!" Mary Lou whispered harshly at me, finally turning towards me to glare.

"Ladies!," Patricia snapped, a few wisps of grey-blonde hair escaping her loose bun, "we've moved on assisted standing, _if_ you'd like to join us."

"In life, I trust you, _always_ ," I whispered, leaning slightly towards Mary Lou as we quickly joined the rest of the class in helping the raspberries stand and tentatively take a few steps in place. "But given the time and effort you've put towards w*ish versus Allegra or Jessica, there's no real comparison. I wasn't going to take a beyond well deserved opportunity from Allegra for nepotism. It's not _fair_ and it's not something I want to feed into w*ish or how I'm perceived as a boss."

"Allegra's a parent too. A single parent. _Her_ top priority isn't w*ish either," Mary Lou snarked from the side of her mouth, masking her words from Patricia's ire by running a hand through her light brown hair.

"I don't expect _anyone's_ first priority to be w*ish," I huffed, annoyed at her attitude, "that's a little ridiculous. But for the person running and owning one of the franchise locations, I expect w*ish to fall at least within their top like… five priorities." I looked around to see if our tiff was drawing anyone's attention. While our little Mommy and Me group was quite fun and we enjoyed the occasional park outing and birthday party, over 50% of our group ritually read Page Six and lived for gossip. It seems that despite my escape from the Burg, gossiping harpies would abound. Luckily, we were seated between Courtney Unger and Gargi Dev, so our whispered tiff would lie well below the radar. I swept my gaze surreptitiously over at Mary Lou who had fallen uncharacteristically silent. Usually when we hashed out arguments following a few days to weeks of silent treatment we'd go from talking to shouting it out without any real pauses for thought or contemplation which seemed to be what she was currently doing given the crease in her brow.

"Huh. I just counted them out, my priorities, and I guess _technically_ , work would come after the kids, Lenny, both our parents, the PTA and helping with the kids after school activities. Oh and volunteering stuff I get peer pressured into by the other moms," Mary Lou shared, slightly annoyed at the fact that her introspection had proven my point. "Y-you're, uh, right."

"Thanks?" I replied dryly. Per our previous altercations, I knew this was as close to an apology as I was going to get. We both tended to be stubborn like that.

"Ladies! We've moved onto patti-cake, if you're interested," Patricia snapped at us, causing the rest of the parents and some of the munchkins to look our way.

I sheepishly ducked my head to hide my light blush behind Theo's tousled head after mouthing sorry to Patricia who simply shook her head in me before continuing to direct the class.

"I suppose if I were in your position, I would've made the same decision. Ugh. You know I _hate_ it when I'm wrong, _especially_ when you're right," Mary Lou said, shooting me a look of feigned annoyance which a smile shining through letting me know that we'd be fine.

"Well," I began, rocking to the left to nudge her sweater-set covered shoulder with my own, "I'm just glad we're back to _us_ again."

"Mhmm," she agreed, matching my smile with one of her own and helping Serafina move her arms airplane style like the other kiddos were. "I think… I think I was just feeling a little… left out. And I took it out on you instead of just talking about it with you," Mary Lou confessed abashedly.

I continued to look at her, my mouth slightly agape in shock. I had no idea that Mary Lou had been feeling like that. I knew she was happy with her life, it was what she'd dreamed since we were little. I guess I'd never noticed over the years that maybe, occasionally she daydreamed about escaping her reality into someone else's, even mine. Although, I could definitely see the appeal. When the twins were first born and fussed all night and I was barely functioning on two hours of sleep a night at best, I dreamed what it would be like to have Mary Lou's mom who was available to her 24-7 from the month before her due date to about two to three months after to help with everything baby related so Mary Lou could get some rest and enjoy her newborns rather than over-stress and panic. But I suppose the difference might be that I never actually wanted her life, despite some of the conveniences her life boasted over mine. I wouldn't have traded anything, even the difficult moments when I wasn't sure I would make it, for anything because my weird, zany, hectic life was my own and I loved it. "I'm sorry Mare, I didn't know you felt like that."

"Don't get me wrong, I _love_ my life. But the changes in your life with this next phase of w*ish and the Vogue article coming out just slammed me back to when you went to college and how I felt left out and out of the loop. We did everything together and then, suddenly, you had this _entire_ life that was new and didn't include me," Mary Lou explained softly.

"I… wow, I had no idea about any of that. I'm sorry for being so callous, I guess I just got caught up in everything going on and neglected to think about how it would impact you." I was surprised that Mary Lou had been feeling this on and off since we were 18 and even more surprised that she was willing to share with me. It wasn't how we'd been raised and while I'd found my way past that particular emotional hurdle with certain people, namely Calista and Victoria, I was impressed that Mary Lou was willing to push herself out of her comfort zone for the sake of our friendship.

"It's okay, Steph, it was forever ago and I just threw myself into my relationship with Lenny and planning the wedding and our life together and I'm _happy_ , Steph, I am. Just sometimes a little… jealous and left out. Besides, seeing you do things for yourself despite what the Burg and your mother expected inspired me to do the same. It's why I made parenting decisions that our parents frown upon but I know are right for my kids and have a part-time job now that's letting me make some non-mom friends."

"I… I didn't know, I'm sorry Mare. You know that, no matter what, you and I are solid. Our friendship transcends differences of lifestyle choices and we are always going to make time for each other and be in each others' lives," I said sincerely, throwing an arm around her shoulders to give her a quick hug.

Serafina caught my gesture from her peripheral vision and twisted, holding her hands out while making grabby fists indicating she wanted a hug too. "Mama! Mama!" she squealed until I leant over and gave her a quick squeeze while Mary Lou and I drew Patricia's attention with our laughter.

* * *

 **SP POV - 31 DEC 2013**

"Thanks for making time for brunch today. I know you've all got a lot going on and I'm just… I really appreciate it," I announced as Mary Lou, Calista and Victoria met me at Prep and Pastry in Newark for lunch. It was a house that had been repurposed into a restaurant replete with cutesy decor details like upside down saucers with mugs used as pendant lights, rustic, driftwood tables, and a chalkboard wall used as a menu.

We took off our peacoats, gloves and scarves and settled into a table off to the side and against a window overlooking the street with slushy snow shoved to the sides and tinged with exhaust. I loved the snow. Flurries falling and fresh blankets of snow made me feel like anything was possible and dreams could actually come true. But then, that snow gets cast off and scraped to the sides of the road and the pollution and exhaust fumes discolor the pure, crisp white with black blech, tainting all of that potential with the harsh reality of the world. Seemed disturbingly prophetic given the news I planned to share with my closest friends.

Luckily, the waiter arrived at our table before I began my big reveal, buying me a little more time to settle my nerves as we ordered.

"I'll have the chef's omelet, fresh fruit and a mimosa," Victoria ordered with a satisfied sigh in anticipation of the meal. She was impeccably dressed, as always, rocking a cream cowl-necked sweater dress with matching wedge knee-high boots and chunky, sparkly red bracelets.

"Yum! I want a mimosa too, with the migas," Calista added, shaking water droplets out of high ponytail onto her pale pink sweater with lace appliquéd shoulders.

"Hmmm. I'll have the apple strudel french toast with a mimosa and could we also get a pitcher of coffee. Thanks," Mary Lou ordered, stifling a yawn and readjusting her red sweater with golden snowflakes stitched around the collar and cuffs.

"Um… I think I'll have the house made granola, a biscuit and a glass of orange juice," I said softly, avoiding the looks of confusion I could feel aimed at me as I handed the menu over while shuffling around in my seat and rubbing my hands up and down the tops of my cranberry red, stovepipe pants. Unfortunately the reprieve the waiter granted me was over too soon and the questions began.

"Steph, everythin' okay?" Mary Lou asked cautiously.

"Yeah. We love hanging out but there was something off about you putting this brunch together today, especially since we're going to be seeing each other tonight to ring in the new year," Victoria added, gesturing to herself and Calista. Mary Lou had a little more tame New Year's Eve plans than we were known for partaking in.

"It's nothing to be alarmed by, really. I just needed to share some news and I'd kinda set today as my like mental deadline for it. So, basically, we're here because I'm an epic procrastinator," I explained with a nervous, forced chuckle as I pushed a lock of hair back behind my ear and fiddled with my jingle bell earring.

"Steph, we're getting worried here. We're here for you, _always_ , no matter what. Just let us know what's going on," Calista added, nudging me with her knee under the table and sincerity swimming in her eyes.

I gave her a faint nod and took a deep breath before sharing my news. "I'm… I'm 12 weeks pregnant." I bounced my gaze among the three of them, taking in the completely shocked, frozen expressions. "Surprise," I added halfheartedly, hoping it would snap them out of their stupor.

"Surprise?!" Victoria snapped over Calista's "You wanna hit me with that again?" and Mary Lou's "You're _what_?".

"Whoa guys," I said, holding up my hands to hold off the pending onslaught of questions. "I found out three- no four, four weeks ago," I explained, but before I could get through how I'd planned for our future, they started in with the well intentioned interrogation.

"How could you _not_ tell us?! And how are you handling the news?" Victoria demanded.

"I just needed to work through some things on my own first, you know, and come up with a plan," I answered before being cutoff by Calista's shocked, stuttered realization.

"You-you're keeping it. You're keeping it?"

I nodded at her, a small smile creeping onto my face.

"Oh my god! You're having a _baby_!" Mary Lou added excitedly, mirroring my smile causing all four of us to smile exuberantly at each other while I surreptitiously wiped away a couple of tears from the corner of my eye.

"Yup. I'm having a baby," I confirmed.

"Oh my g- wow. This is just wow. I literally can't think of _anything_ else to say."

"Damn Steph, you've rendered Calista "Ms. I _always_ have something to say" Cooper speechless," Victoria chortled. "This is whoa… life changing news Steph. Congratulations!"

"Yeah! Congrats!" Calista added while Mary Lou gave me a quick, bleary-eyed hug and whispered her congratulations to me.

"So, are you ready for this?" Victoria asked, concerned.

"Yeah, do you need help with anything?" Calista added.

"Did you find a doctor? Have you started taking prenatal vitamins?" Mary Lou queried.

"Um… I don't think I'll be completely ready for a while, if ever, but I'm getting there. I've at least managed to get over the shock of it all. I'm sure I'll need help as things progress and I start to get larger and larger. And I actually already saw a doctor, so I'm all set on nutrition and having a healthy pregnancy."

"Wow. You're handling this really well," Calista commented, causing Mary Lou and Victoria to nod in agreement.

"Well, I've had a few weeks to get used to it. And after your scare in junior year and the following freakout, I think any reaction would be considered tame," I joked.

"Ugh… tequila is the devil!" Victoria announced, resting her forehead in her hand while we laughed. "Thankfully I wasn't tied to that jackass- whoa! Wait up, missy. You've left out one _major_ detail in your I'm-knocked-up announcement," she said, leveling me with a pointed look.

I looked around the table to find all three of them staring at me expectantly. When I didn't answer for a few moments, Calista decided to steer me toward the information they wanted divulged. "Steph? The _baby-daddy_? Spill!"

"Yeah, what did he say when you told him?" Mary Lou added.

"About that…" I began only to be interrupted with the arrival of our meal. I continued once we'd gotten our meals, hoping they wouldn't get too caught up on the hitch in my news because I was really, really hungry. "I haven't been able to get a hold of him to tell him. You know he's… out of town, for work, and there's no concrete end date, unfortunately, and communicating with him isn't all that reliable," I explained cautiously.

"So he doesn't know?" Calista asked brusquely. She was fiercely loyal as a friend, and me being in this situation without the support of the one person who should absolutely have my back. Frankly, given the ire building up in her eyes, he was lucky he was out of the country.

"Damn Steph… I'm sorry. Especially with how things have been between you since the… well, you know," Victoria commented, highlighting the cause for a good deal of my stress currently. If he and I were still together, he'd already know and I'd know where the raspberries and I stood with him. This not knowing was nerve-wracking and given how precarious my emotions were as of late, I didn't think I could handle him just walking away or blaming me for turning his ordered, adrenaline filled life upside down.

"Guys, it is what it is. I'm… it's not ideal, but I've got a plan for rocking the whole single parent thing. And when I get the chance to tell him about the raspberries," I explained matter of factly with a shrug, "I'll go from there. And while I'd _like_ him to be a part of this, I don't necessarily _need_ him."

"Wow… you're really zen about this. Pregnancy has made you all mature and shit," Victoria deduced, picking up her fork to dig into her steaming breakfast.

"Wait," Calista demanded, her mimosa halfway to her mouth, "raspberries?" she queried, her eyebrow quirked up.

"That's what I've been calling them, in my head," I explained, buttering my biscuit generously. What? I'm pregnant.

"Them?" Mary Lou added, slowly.

"Oh, did I not mention it before. I'm having twins!" I quipped before taking a huge bite and enjoying the fact that I'd rendered my friends speechless once again.

* * *

 **SP POV - 23 APR 2015**

"Oh my wow! I cannot _believe_ that's how you spent your birthday," I exclaimed after Grandma had finished recounting her exciting birthday adventure, with a very salacious grin, which ended in her and her friends trying to dance on a bar but not quite being able to make it up there because her hip was apparently sore from her earlier exploits at Stud-O-Luscious. The twins and I met Grandma Mazur at Pino's for a delicious birthday dinner. Pino's was a cherished Trenton landmark and part of the reason I could never manage to lose that last couple of pounds when I was lucky enough to enjoy their meatball subs and pizza several times a week. It was the quintessential Italian restaurant with red and white checkered vinyl tablecloths, black and white pictures of the Old Country decorating the walls, bistro lighting crisscrossing the ceiling for ambiance and the aroma of marina and basil permeating the air.

Unfortunately, our desire for a low key meal wasn't entirely successful. although between grandma's antics last night (and in general) and my notoriety, most recently due to my apparently scandalous career move and single parenthood, the four of us were attracting quite a few looks from our fellow patrons. I tended to be a little more guarded and perpetually on the lookout for someone who might say something nasty in front of the twins, but grandma said they were probably just trying to check us out as we were essentially local celebrities. She has a very… unique outlook on life. But it keeps her from overthinking things. "So, what I really want to know, is what is going on with the potential date you were telling me about?" I asked while leaning over to wipe a little smeared marinara sauce from Theo's chin. Luckily he hadn't gotten his 'If you think I'm cute you should see my Grandma!' t-shirt messy.

"Oh, Luke? Well, he is _very_ charming," grandma swooned, a wistful look in her eye. "He was at Lucky Sevens, the bar we went to after we got out of the pokey last night!" She was sporting some very bouncy, cherry-hued ringlets, wearing a souvenir t-shirt from Stud-O-Luscious, and looking more excited yet refreshed than I'd seen her in a long time. Although, generally out conversation includes a bit more of what my mom has been up to and this time there was definitely no time for her, which may be the reason for the difference.

"Well that was lucky, him hanging out there. Did you two get to maybe do a little dancing?" I asked, amusedly.

"Mhmm," she grinned, "and he asked me out for this weekend."

"Wow, he moves quickly!" my teasing was punctuated with Serafina's giggling and clapping.

"I see Miss Serafina agrees! Well, when she gets to be my age, she'll appreciate men who work quickly," grandma joked, sneaking her another piece of breadstick.

"Hey now, I'd like to get her potty trained before we start talking about dating," I snarked dryly. "Besides, she'll never attract a man while acting so unladylike," I said, mirroring my mother's intonation.

"True, her manners fall woefully short of Burg standards," grandma added, also mimicking my mother's tone and tsk-ing. Her laughter shifted to glee as Mr. Pino himself came to our table dressed in a 'kiss the cook' apron with red and pink lip prints all over it and holding a small yellow birthdaycake with sparkler candles that elicited gleeful shouts and clapping from the twins. Mr. Pino and several patrons joined me in serenading Grandma Mazur with a boisterous rendition of happy birthday and we all clapped as she shot me a saucy wink before blowing out the candles.

Grandma and I delighted in introducing the twins to their first taste of birthday cake as she opened the gift I got her. She was very excited about the w*ish merchandise I gave her, especially the sheer, rose negligee, and told me about her plans for her date with Luke. However when she switched to interrogating me about my lack of love life and asking me what a spank bank was, I decided to call it a night and used the raspberries bedtime as an excuse to escape.

* * *

 **SP POV - 25 APR 2015**

The twins and I were having a lazy Saturday morning, well, more me than them. They were up at the break of dawn, eager to start their day and oblivious to the sanctity of weekends. After a morning bubble bath complete with floating battleships, courtesy of the Merry Men, I settled the twins into their highchairs with colorful bibs and a handful of rice crispies each. I was sifting through our mail from the past few days while enjoying how strips of morning sunlight filtered through the shutters and played across their faces which were locked in concentration on selecting and eating kernels of their breakfast.

I bypassed a handful of what I was sure were bills to open a manilla envelope from New York City. I peeled it open and spilled the contents onto the dining table before squealing in excitement. It had arrived! My advance copy of the May issue of Vogue which featured a spread on w*ish lingerie. I hurriedly opened it up to the article which was introduced with a picture of me on the runway at last year's lingerie fashion week and ended with several pages of models illustrating the most popular w*ish designs. I grabbed my cup of coffee and settled in to read what Natalie Drew wrote about me.

"It's incredible, Natalie is officially my new best friend," I espoused to Camilla after reading through the entire article twice. It was beyond flattering and focused as much on me as a single parent, entrepreneur and fashionista as w*ish.

"What! I better not be getting demoted Steph!" Camilla feigned annoyance. "Seriously though, you are incredible and just as interesting as w*ish. I'm glad Vogue managed to do both you and w*ish justice."

"She definitely did us justice and reignited my motivation to make this year's lingerie fashion week line to be even more show stopping or I'd risk disappointing Natalie and Vogue readers everywhere," I joked, tickling Theo's tummy as he attempted to throw now soggy rice crispies at his sister.

"Please. I've seen some of what you've come up with and there's no way nymph*ish will fall short."

"Da-darn straight!" I replied.

"Nice Mommy," Camilla teased, she took great pleasure in me censuring my vocabulary in front of the twins. "So, you all ready for our meeting Monday to pick the finalists for your new w*ish location owners?"

"Pretty much. I've looked at those resumes so many times I practically have most of them memorized. Do you have some favorites?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah, a few stand out more than the others. But I think part of it is also getting a feel for someone, you know?"

"Yeah," I chortled, "you know, you kinda sound like Aeneas. He's very vibe oriented with respect to business decisions."

"Wow, business and creative sides of the business agreeing on something. I never thought I'd see the day," she snarked. When we had joint meetings with Mod Management and Vasiliou Ventures, Camilla and Aeneas never seemed to agree on anything. At this point, I was convinced that it was more out of good natured teasing and stubbornness than anything else. Either way, it left Tucker and I to broker peace and find a middle ground that everyone would agree to.

"Yeah, yeah. It was bound to happen eventually. Don't get used to it!" she retorted. "All right, continue basking in the glow of your rave review and I'll see you Monday morning to pare down the list of applicants."

"See you then!"

"You too. And give the munchkins kisses and hugs from me!" she demanded before hanging up.

I decided to skim through the article and pictures one more time before going back through the list of applicants and the travel arrangements for the twins, Reggie and myself. Things were about to get even more hectic, I thought, unaware of how much of an understatement that would come to be.

* * *

 **SP POV - 30 APR 2015**

"Okay, I'll see you kiddies next time!" Patricia Lattimer announced, dismissing our Mommy and Me class.

I gathered up the twins' black diaper bag with multicolored splotches that seemed to grow weekly before scooping Theo up and meeting Ella Guzman who was animatedly discussing organic baby food recipes with Patricia while swaying Serafina back and forth in her arms.

Ella was essentially the den mother at RangeMan and handled everything from laundry to meals. She was a curvy, latin woman with brown hair slightly streaked with gray which was usually fixed in a relaxed bun or braid and was impeccable dressed either in a more feminine version of the RangeMan black on black uniform or something from the Talbots catalogue. She also somehow always smelled faintly of vanilla and cinnamon . Ella was an incredibly kind and generous woman and tended to provide maternal support to everyone who crossed her path.

Luckily, that included me once I'd joined the RangeMan family and she'd been an incredible source of unwavering support to me over the years. She claimed that my monthly meeting at RangeMan just wasn't sufficient time with her honorary grandchildren and demanded to be a part of the rotation for Mommy and Me.

"Stephanie, mija (Spanish: my daughter), are you ready to go?" she inquired as I walked up to her, Patricia and Serafina.

"Yup, all set," I replied.

"Let's head out, we've got a lot to do!" Ella announced. "We're making butternut squash risotto and apple turnovers for lunch," Ella explained to Patricia excitedly.

"Oh wow, I'm very jealous!" Patricia replied. "And thank you, Ella, for the breakfast treats you always bring."

"It's my pleasure," Ella replied. Personally, I think she was thrilled to have an excuse to cook for people who were allowed to eat fat as most of her cooking involved doing things in the healthiest way possible so the Merry Men could maintain their very impressive fighting physiques.

"Yeah, thanks again for the lemon-ginger muffins," Bradley Ames added on his way out the door with his son Parker in his arms. "One of these days I'm gonna get you to part with the recipe for your famous pomegranate, carob and oatmeal bars!" he joked before waving and heading to his car.

Ella just shook her head at him and giggled at the complement and monthly plea for the recipe Bradley made as I rolled my eyes at him. There was no way Ella was gonna give that recipe up to him, rumor was that she wouldn't even share it with here sister.

"Serafina, you ready to make some risotto?" Ella cooed as we headed into the sunny parking lot to head our apartment for yet another cooking lesson. At this point, I'm pretty sure Ella knew her way around my kitchen better than I did.

* * *

 **SP POV - 26 JAN 2014**

"Ella, come on in!" I answered the door and gestured her towards the kitchen, "I've gotten everything you said we'd need". I led her into the well equipped if somewhat unused kitchen in my new apartment in Newark. I'd asked her if she'd be willing to give me some cooking lessons a few days ago and we'd settled on Sunday afternoons as the best time for both of us. "Oh wait, would you like a quick tour first?"

"I think we should get the prep work done and you can show me around while the veggie burger patties are baking," Ella replied, following me into the kitchen while looking around and taking everything in. "So, today we're going to be making a arugula, strawberry and goat cheese salad and a pesto veggie burger. Let's start by preparing the pesto," she directed.

After she gave me a few quick instructions on what needed to be done, she started in on the questions I know she's been dying to ask since I switched to part-time at RangeMan and moved to Newark. "So, Stephanie, what brought on this sudden desire to learn to cook?" she asked with feigned nonchalance.

"Oh, well. I guess I just figured it was time to learn and I also wanted to be a little more healthy now that I can't rely on your delicious meals daily," I replied, focused on my task of peeling garlic.

"Well I think that's a wonderful idea," Ella replied, slightly disappointed at the mundane-ness of my answer. She, unlike my mother, was happy to let me keep my own council until I was ready to share rather than force me to confide in her and we continued preparing the pesto and the veggie burger patties while discussing the random happenings of RangeMan. After putting the patties in the oven to bake, we walked through the apartment.

"So this is the living room, it's nothing fancy, but the sofa is super comfy," I said, gesturing to it.

"I like how you went with different shades of blue," Ella complemented, nodding to the mismatched yet complementary blue sofa, chair, rug and tufted coffee table. "And I really like the picture of you and your friends," she added, smiling at a picture of Calista, Victoria, Mary Lou and I during my sophomore year at college. The background consisted of snow covered branches and benches and the four of us were huddled with our rosy cheeks and noses, wrapped in heavy scarves and smiling as widely as we could.

"Thanks, we'd just had an epic snowball fight," I explained, causing her to giggle at our antics. We moved down the hallway to what would be the babies' nursery. So far I'd just been storing random things in it. "So this is the spare room," I said, tapping the door, "I haven't really decided what to do with it yet." I continued walking down the hallway towards my bedroom but stopped when I heard Ella open the door and head in. I turned back and waited at the entrance rather than follow her into the room.

"Hmmm, this room will get great light," she commented absentmindedly as she took in the windows as well as the random boxes and bags of odds and ends that somehow ended up deposited around the room. "Maybe you could use it as- oh my goodness! Are those you're baby clothes?" she asked gesturing to a small box that was filled with baby things. Baby boy things that my father had dropped off last weekend in the hopes that their presence would somehow convince my uterus to make at least one of the raspberries male. "That is adora…" her voice faltered as she internalized that everything she was seeing in that box was brand new and in varying shades of blue. "Stephanie?" she looked at me with her dark brown eyes wide and a shock and joy battling for dominance over her expression.

"Yeah?" I asked, cringing slightly at the anticipated onslaught.

"Are, are you _pregnant_?" she whispered, as if saying at a normal speaking volume would cause it to not be true. When I nodded numbly in response she squealed and snatched me in a hug, enveloping me in a scent of vanilla and cinnamon. "Congratulations! Stephanie, oh, you are going to be the most incredible mother!" she said matter-of-factly. "So, how far along are you? Oh no wonder you wanted to eat healthy! I'm so glad you asked me for help. And a boy! You're having a _boy_! Is that why you decided to move and start your own business? Or did… wait a minute," she said, her excited tone turning suspicious as she realized I'd been completely silent and slightly panicky since her discovery, "I can't believe he _left_ you to go be… be… be that Sylvester Stallone character where he fights in Asia and leaving you like…" from her silence and thoughtful look I could tell she was replaying the day she and everyone else at RangeMan discovered that I'd been dumped. "Mija? (Spanish: my daughter)" she asked tentatively.

I cleared the lump out of my throat before answering her questions as briefly as I could. Apparently the hormonal bit of pregnancy had hit me twice as hard, thank you super sperm, and I really didn't want to get rheumy in front of Ella. She had my back and would incredibly support, which I appreciated. Unfortunately, she tended to be protective which meant she'd yell at somebody about this and I wasn't ready for the news to break at RangeMan quite yet, especially since I still hadn't been able to inform the father, my ex. "Yes, I'm pregnant, about three and a half months. The baby boy gifts are wishful thinking from my Dad, but I'll find out in March. And Rambo doesn't know because I found out after he left and I haven't been able to get into contact with him. Oh, and I'm having twins, because _apparently_ , my uterus is an overachiever."

"Twins!" Ella exclaimed, equally excited and chastising, as if I'd intentionally buried the lead. We ended up abandoning the tour of the apartment in lieu of deciding how to set up the nursery as we waited for the oven timer to go off. Finally, I thought, as we discussed gender neutral wall colors, I had the excited I-just-told-my-Mom-I'm-preggers moment and I was only mildly disappointed that it couldn't happen with my actual mother.

* * *

A/N: I know that this wasn't particularly well done (or the length I was expecting), I just needed to get back into the swing of things. I still hope you enjoyed it and I promise to be back soon! (Within a week at the most.)


	10. Chapter 7

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading along and for all of the favorites and reviews. I've added a counter that notes how many months in the past a flashback is from present day. I hope it helps to make things clearer.

Oh, and I watched a couple of episodes of Graceland (which has the actor who played Ranger in the One for the Money movie) and all I can think the entire time is _damn, Ranger's a bad ass and he looks hella good_ , incase anyone out there's got a few hours to kill with Netflix and also thinks Daniel Sunjata is crazy, stupid hot…

* * *

 **Part I. "A man, when he WISHes, is the master of his fate." - Jose Ferrer**

 **Chapter 7**

 **SP POV - 01 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

I grabbed another box from the back storage room and headed back to the main w*ish floor with Sofia Santos following me with a box of her own. We placed the boxes on the floor and started setting up a the displays reserved for Mother's Day. Sofia, Allegra Peretti, the newly minted manager of the Newark w*ish location, Jessica Davis and I all arrived early to set up w*ish for the Mother's Day promotion and debut of the new mommy*ish.

"How does this look Steph?" Jessica asked, nodding to the 15% off signs she'd put up around the store.

"Hmmm," I said, looking around, "what do you think Allegra?" I asked, deferring the decision to her. It was taking everyone a little time adjusting to their new boss, but Allegra was taking everything including her new responsibilities in stride.

"It looks great, don't forget to add a sign in the window," Allegra decided with a nod and cheery smile.

"So, have you guys gotten all of your Mother's Day gifts" Sofia asked while she gently stocked pastel colored nursing bras and matching panties of various styles. "My cousins and I got my Grandmother one of those snapfish scrapbooks, but I can't quite decide on what to get my Mom and my brother's been no help," she lamented dramatically.

"Well, I've mostly gotten everything figured out. I just have a few details left for Grandma Mazur's gift," I replied.

"Ugh, stop being such overachievers, you're making me look bad!" Jessica joked causing us to laugh before heading back to work. "So, what's left to do boss?" Jessica cheekily asked Allegra.

"Hmm, well, once we're done with the displays and restocking, we should get the gift wrapping stuff ready and have stuff ready for another wave of restocking," Allegra replied, before giving us each direction so we would be ready when official store hours began.

I was relieved Jessica took the opportunity to end the topic on a light note. She and I had gotten closest to Allegra and knew how difficult Mother's Day and family holidays in general were for her. Her mother had died when she was young and her dad was strict yet distant and handled his wife's death at the bottom of a bottle. He ended up passing away of liver failure when she was 18 years old. She'd had a difficult run on things, but I liked to think that w*ish was a turning point for her, a way to start her life over like it was for me. And this year, her daughter Gracie had called me secretly for help planning the perfect gift for Allegra.

* * *

 **SP POV - 05 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"So, was there anything else that you guys needed before we head to lunch?" I asked as Tank, Lester and I wrapped up our monthly meeting.

"Nope, we're all good," Lester replied, tugging me up out of my seat and hooking an arm around my neck as the three of us headed down the hallway to reclaim the twins. We were halfway there when chatter from the break room drew us. Inside we found Ella bustling about, setting up a very appetizing buffet of tacos, Spanish rice, calabacitas, three types of salsa and a very non-RangeMan diet approved, chocolatey dessert.

"Wow, Ella, this smells incredible!" I exclaimed, interrupting her enough to get a quick hug.

"Congratulations, Stephanie! I saw your article in Vogue when I went to the market and I wanted to put together a little celebration!"

"Thanks! This is amazing!" I replied, looking around at all of the food and waving at the off-duty Merry Men who were mingling and entertaining Theo and Serafina who were once again wearing their matching RangeBaby gear. I headed over to Cal and Manny who were tossing the twins up into the air and playing airplane with them, their little bodies dwarfed and fragile looking in comparison to the giant, musclebound men that were holding them.

"Yeah Bombshell, Congrats!" Woody called out from across the room followed by a chorus of Merry Men congratulating me, giving me quick hugs. I moved through the mob of Merry Men until I was able to give give my raspberries each a kiss and squeeze before they were scooped up and passed around the room once again.

"Men, Bomber informed me that all w*ish products will be 15% off until mother's day, if you're looking to get someone something," Tank announced as he snatched Theo from a very disgruntled Zero.

"Oh that's a wonderful idea for Mother's Day Stephanie! I think I'll have to stop by there sometime this week," Ella replied, excited at the prospect for some new goodies and entirely oblivious to uncomfortable looks gracing the Merry Men's faces. "Alright boys, lunch is ready!" she announced, causing the everyone to cue up for her delicious treats.

I made two small plates with a little bit of everything for the twins to try and sat down at a table with them balanced in my lap, a skill that took quite a few months for me to master. Lester, Woody, Junior, Hector and Vince joined me with loaded plates and dug into their food while we got caught up on each other's lives amid them indulging Theo and Serafina in some babbling baby talk.

"So Vince, how are things going with Stella?" I asked amid feeding the twins little bites of rice mixed with vegetables and hoping they wouldn't get too carried away and end up mashing their meals into my suit.

"They're going great, but man, she loves to cook and it's delicious but I've gained like 10 pounds," Vince replied with a small, dimpled smile.

"And Tank's been on his ass to get back in shape," Lester joked, snagging one of Vince's taco's with a pointed look when Vince moved to bat his hand away.

"Man, it's no joke. He keeps making up crap excuses to call me to the mats!" Vince lamented.

"Stephanie, dear," Elle said, reaching around me to place a fully loaded plate and piece of cake in front of me, "I think you'll really like the dessert. It's a chocolate cake with a vanilla and hazelnut ganache drizzle, I came across it a few weeks ago and knew I had to make it for you!" she beamed. "Eat up!" she said, tousling the twins hair before going around and making sure each of her honorary sons had enough food.

The Merry Men, Ella, Luis, raspberries and I spent a relaxing hour eating and catching up before Tank reluctantly announced their lunch break to be over and I headed back to Newark with two very sated, sleepy twins and several tupperware full of Ella's deliciousness.

* * *

 **Lester Santos POV - 01 APR 2014 (1 Year and 1 Month Ago)**

"So, were you able to get us any leads on Bugsy?" I asked Stephanie at our monthly meeting. She'd gone from some random pixie office worker to a bright light at RangeMan that we all enjoyed spending time with, and now we were having to get used to our world without her. At least she'd given us time to ween off of her sunny presence rather than going cold turkey. She'd gone to part-time in October and since February Stephanie had cut back to monthly status meetings and a reduced set of responsibilities. Luckily, she was always willing to help out despite her own burgeoning career as a fashion designer. In this case, we'd asked her to use her Burg contacts to see if she could sniff out any leads on Anthony 'Bugsy' Brunetti, mob enforcer and recent FTA that RangeMan had been contracted to return to the Trenton Police Department.

"Yeah, I talked to Erica Palladino, we went to high school together and her husband owns a rental few used car lots in town and she found out that Bugsy's cousin bought a white, beat-up Honda Civic for cash a few weeks ago. Anyways, she also said that Bugsy's cousin has been having an affair with Bugsy's wife, it's all very Days of Our Lives. Anyways, the point is I talked to the soon to be ex-Mrs. Bugsy who let me know that he liked to hang out at Teazers, with a z, _naturally_ ," she scoffed and rolled her eyes. "It's a low cl-"

"Beautiful, we're uh… familiar with Teazers. So is that his weekly haunt?" I interjected to save her and us from her take on that particular entertainment venue.

"From his wife's commentary, it's more of a three to four times a week habit," Stephanie edified.

"Okay, well, we can work with that. I'll have Binkie and Hal talk to the bartenders, run surveillance and figure out the best day to set the distraction to pick Bugsy up," Tank decided, jotting down a quick note on his legal pad of daily to do tasks and too focused on efficiency to note the slight tensing in Stephanie's shoulders and rigidness infuse her posture.

"Okay, our intel says he has a thing for blondes, so we can set you up with a wig and-" I began outlining our plan only to be cutoff by Stephanie's semi-frantic yammering.

"About that, I can't. I'm busy that night and I'm not feelings up to it and I have to take Grandma Mazur to, um… to the-".

"Whoa Little Girl, hold on a second. What's going on?" Tank asked, ending her babble.

"Steph, Beautiful, if this is about… you know… the extra um… stress doughnut weight or whatever, it's not that noticeable and _most_ of it seems to have gone to your rack," I winked at her, "so th-".

"Wha-did… I can't _believe_ y- did you just," Stephanie sputtered while bouncing her gaze between me and Tank with equal parts shock and anger simmering in her eyes. Something in her eyes let me know this was more than outrage and embarrassment at us commenting on some weight gain.

"Steph, that's not what he meant, _please_ don't over react," Tank said slowly with his hands up and palms out as if trying to reason with a small, volatile child.

"I… okay. I know I've… gained a little weight," she bit out, glaring at us, "but… I… that's not why I can't help with the distraction. Shit, I thought I had more time," she mumbled the last bit to herself. "Okay, I have some news that I guess it's time to share," she announced, twisting her hands in her lap and not quite making eye contact.

Suddenly I remembered a conversation I had with Calista Cooper, one of Stephanie's best friends about a month ago. Calista's ranting coupled with Stephanie's behavior over the past several months and a lot of things were starting to fall into place and a small pit of anxiety started to unfurl in my stomach.

"Little Girl, what's going on?" Tank asked in a softer version of his commanding voice.

"So, a few months ago, four actually, I um… got some surprising news. I… okay, first, I just need you to not overreact and know that I have everything under control, _mostly_ ," she stipulated, looking up at us with big, arctic blue, rheumy eyes.

"Beautiful, we promise. And we've got your back, _always_. Now _please_ , get us up to speed on whatever's going on," I implored, not quite sure whether knowing the truth would be more distressing than the anxiety of not knowing.

"Well," she began, grabbing her overstuffed purse off the ground beside her and shuffling through it, "I'm pregnant," she announced. "Surprise?" she added at our dumbfound, frozen expressions and lack of response.

"What? How? Who? Bomber! What the _hell_ is going on?" Tank demanded.

" _How_ Tank? _Really!_ " I snarked at him disapprovingly before pulling Stephanie out of her seat in front of Tank's desk to give her a hug. "Congratulations Beautiful! And ignore Tank, your news has apparently rendered him stupid."

"Shit, talk about shock and awe," Tank mumbled before heaving himself out from behind his desk and giving Stephanie a hug and whispered congratulations.

"So, um… how far along are you?" I asked, pulling her flowy sweater away from her frame to better admire her basketball-sized baby bump. I figured asking about the baby was a safer route than asking about the baby daddy.

I shot Tank a look that warned him off asking as well. Unfortunately, judging by his gearing-up-for-uncomfortable-social-situations face, not to be mistaken with his I-have-mad-diarrhea-and-we're-in-a-jungle-with-banana-leaves-as-toilet-paper face, I could tell that he wasn't going to stop until he got to the bottom of the baby daddy situation. We'd served with too many guys who came home to find that their girlfriends and wives had moved on. While this situation wasn't entirely the same because our idiot brother-in-arms had opted to 'set Stephanie free' prior to leaving on his long-term mission, we still needed to be in the know to brief him before he found out through gossip and to make sure Stephanie was safe and taken care of.

After a few minutes of congratulating, stuttering over the dual-pregnancy and looking at the slightly creased sonogram picture she pulled from the depths of her purse, Tank broached the giant kevlar-covered elephant in the room. "So, Bomber, if you're about seven months pregnant, that would make…" he puttered off, hoping Stephanie would catch on and fill in the blanks.

"Okay, I know what you're thinking and _no_ I haven't told him, but that's only because I didn't know until _after_ he'd gone. I've left messages for him to call me, but I'd rather tell him in person whenever he gets back," Stephanie explained in a well-rehearsed rush. Apparently she'd given the explanation a few times. "And… I know it's a lot to ask, but I don't want him finding out from anyone but me. With the way he ended things and the magnitude of this news, it's just _really_ important to me that I'm the one to tell him."

"Okay Steph, we can do that and make sure the rest of RangeMan toes the line, but what about the rest of Trenton?" Tank asked after shooting me a subtle look that implied he wasn't happy keeping such a life altering secret from one of the core RangeMan members.

"Yeah Beautiful, gossip is their second nature. There's no way you can keep the news quiet," I explained softly, still unable to tear my gaze from her stomach. It was pretty incredible that she'd managed to keep such a huge secret and that there where two little badass rambo-fashionista in there.

"Well, before this morning I'd only confirmed the father's identity to five people and there's no way they would tell anyone. And, well, since my exposure with the Burg would only be for family things, to visit friends or to help with RangeMan, I'm not really worried about gossip.

"Keeping a secret of this magnitude in a place like the Burg, it won't be easy," I explained softly, resisting the urge to lay a hand protectively on her stomach. "They won't be kind."

"Eh, I've been through worse," she shrugged with feigned bravado. "Besides, this will help keep the raspberries safe, so… it's worth it." After a few moments of silence in which we all contemplated how news of Stephanie's pregnancy would break in the insular community that is the Burg, Stephanie grabbed my wrist which was still outstretched and awkwardly lingering a few inches from her stomach. "Do you wanna feel? Sometimes when you talk to them, they kick," she offered, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Definitely, let's see if they're gonna be soccer players!" I replied excitedly before she pulled my hand the rest of the way to her stomach to feel one of the most incredible things I'd ever experienced, almost better than the drunken weekend in Brazil after a highly classified op that I spent with three Carnival Samba Parade dancers.

"Damn, we're gonna be _uncles_ ," Tank said, his voice in awe as he crowded in to feel his future niece and nephew.

* * *

 **SP POV - 07 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"You know, baby granddaughter, I reckon that Patricia from Mommy and Me has a little bit of a _thing_ for your dad," Grandma Mazur announced nonchalantly just as I took and proceeded to choke on a sip of water. After Mommy and Me, we'd gone back to my apartment for a relaxed lunch of Chinese takeout.

"What?" I coughed out my hand patting my chest as I expelled the rest of the water. "Patricia and _Dad_?"

"Yeah, and I think he's a little sweet on her too," Grandma added nodding her head vigorously causing her curls to bounce up and down. "He talks about her sometimes and always gets this shy smile on her face and Patricia always asks about him whenever I come.

"Really? Did Mom say anything?" I asked, grabbing a fortune cookie, cracking it open and giving Theo and Serafina each a piece. Serafina picked hers up and investigated it closely and curiously before giving it a tentative lick whereas Theo just grabbed it in his pudgy fist and shoved it unceremoniously into his gummy mouth.

"Mom hasn't said anything but I know she's noticed that Frank's mentioned her a few times. Helen asked me about Patricia because she didn't know who she was but when I mentioned that she was someone Frank and I knew through you, she shut down and just ignores all talk of Patricia."

"Denial, huh? Well, that's one way to go. But I really don't think Dad's the type to… ugh stray. Grandma, I'm really not comfortable talking about this whatever it is," I lamented.

"Eh, I'm just waiting to see what happens, I have a feeling it's going to be pretty spectacular. Not quite as impressive as your divorce per say, but still a fun time," Grandma explained before snapping open her fortune cookie and reading the message. "Ooh, you cannot love life until you live the life you love… _in bed_!"

"Hmm… that sounds like a good one. Speaking of love life, how are things going with Luke?" I asked with a smirk. Grandma's had a little extra spring in her step since she started mentioning Luke, her friend's single brother.

"Well we've been on three really great dates, two of which ended the next morning," she answered with a salacious smirk. "Mostly though, we just have a lot of fun. He likes my friends and being adventurous like me so we never get bored."

I smiled back at her, glad that she had found someone who could keep up with her and indulged her schemes. "I'm glad things are going well. So, have you met each other's families?"

"Your mom's been a little tightly wound lately so I've been avoiding a family dinner, and I've met his sons and grandkids at random Burg events, but that was before I started dating Luke."

"Well, there's plenty of time for that." I replied.

"Mhmm. So, what did your fortune say?"

"In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities," I read from the scrap of paper. "Well, hopefully the dream bit holds true, because I could use a little extra assurance since I've started interviewing new w*ish boutique franchise owners."

"Oh yeah, how were the interviews in New York?" Grandma asked.

"It was okay, a few of the people seemed much better on paper than they ended up being in real life and it was nice to do the first round of interviews out of Camilla's office so I could ask her for advice between interviews," I explained, fiddling with my chopsticks.

"So, who made the final cut?" Grandma queried, her fingers steepled.

"Well, I liked three of the people, but of them, Daniel Bellerose only one made me feel comfortable enough to trust with w*ish. He's incredible snarky with an impeccable fashion sense and a pretty impressive resume," I explained. "We hit it off right away and he's smart and had a few good questions and ideas for w*ish, so I think he'll be a real asset going forward."

"Ooh, is he one of them gays? Because male lingerie shop owner seems right up their alley. I've _always_ wanted a gay friend since that hilarious show came out years ago, you know the one with the red head and her gay best friend?"

"Will and Grace?"

"Yup, that's the one! They always got into such fun shenanigans," Grandma added wistfully.

"Well, I doubt his life is exactly like that, but he did mention a hilarious story about seeing and semi-stalking Sarah Jessica Parker," I chortled, recalling his story of tailing the actress while in a pedicab.

"I'm more interested in the love part of your fortune cookie message. It could mean that maybe it's finally time for your fella to come home and find out how much more interesting his life has gotten since he went into the wind to overthrow a dictatorship or end a coup or whatever it is that he left to do," Grandma added speculatively.

I stopped on my way to the sink to drop off some of our dishes, shocked by the turn of topic. Generally, Grandma Mazur avoided the topic of the raspberries' father because it tended to throw me into an overly-introspective funk. I gingerly placed the dishes in the sink and let some water run, trying to decide if I wanted him back in our lives at all. It'd been so long since I'd had him with me, I mean really had him, and while I still felt I owed it to him to tell him about the raspberries, but I wasn't sure I wanted him in our lives, on a daily basis. I'd forged a nice life for myself and my babies, and I wasn't sure how he'd fit into it or if he would even want to. Getting him to open up to date me for a few months had been battle enough and kids had _never_ been part of his plan. Of course any of those questions and conversations were contingent upon him finally reaching out to at least give me the opportunity to let him know about the raspberries and until then, there was no use wondering or worrying.

I was startled from my thoughts by Grandma's cherry red cell phone chiming with an incoming text message. "Well, looks like Irma just pulled up so I guess I'll head out," she explained, standing up and placing her dishes in the sink before flouncing back over to the dining table where the twins and I were finishing up our meals. "Oh, and thanks for your birthday gift, Luke is now a _huge_ w*ish fan," she winked at me before giving the raspberries quick kisses on their foreheads, grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

* * *

 **SP POV - 10 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Here you are Mr. Sillas," I said, handing him a plum and gold gift wrapped package filled with some w*ish lingerie, his Mother's Day gift for his wife. "Come back and see us soon," I added with a wide smile as he nodded in thanks and rushed out the door. W*ish had been crazy busy since Wednesday evening with husbands mostly, rushing in to pick up last minute gifts for their wives and, in a few instances, girlfriends. We also had a fair amount of nursing mothers come in to try out the new mommy*ish line.

"Hey Steph," Allegra called to me from the main boutique floor near one of the new mommy*ish displays where she was tidying up, "I'll be right there to give you a break," she added, nodding her head at the front door where Camilla Manoso just walked in carrying a small package.

"Thanks," I replied, "Cam, the raspberries and Gracie in the back office if you wanna wait there."

Camilla waved at me with her hot pink hued nails and headed back to the main office while casting her gaze approvingly over the throngs of customers rifling through w*ish merchandise.

A few customers later, Allegra joined Reggie behind the cash register and I headed back to the office, stopping along the way to help a few perusing shoppers out. "Hey guys," I called as I entered the room. The twins were in a portable play pen with a couple of stuffed animals and a set of blocks and Gracie, Allegra's daughter, was sitting behind her mom's new desk with the Wonder Woman coloring book I used to keep here for her.

I got mumbled greetings from the kids but Camilla came up to me and gave me a huge hug before handing me a gift bag. "Happy Mother's Day Steph!"

"Thanks!" I replied with a squeal when I spotted the Magnolia Bakery insignia on the side of the pastry box. Camilla had insisted on taking me when I first visited the Mod Management office after it was first opened and we spent a very memorable hour there tasting our way through a majority of the cupcake menu and building our friendship.

"These are for you," she added, handing me the box. I peeked through the plastic portion of the top and spotted a dozen assorted cupcakes including the almost-better-than-sex truffle cupcakes. And soon Grace, Camilla and I had settled in with a cupcake each (I'd given the raspberries a small piece each of mine).

"So, Cam, what are your Mother's Day plans?" I asked while moaning my way through my cupcake.

"I'm on my way to the annual Manoso-Santos Mother's Day picnic," Camilla explained, her voice somewhat muddled by the giant bite of mint-chocolate cupcake she just took. "And I decided to come a little early to stop by here and pick up a few gift cards for my sisters. They get cranky when they're left out of the Mother's Day gifts despite the fact that they aren't _my_ mother. It's an argument I've had too many times and it's really just better to get them a little something to keep the peace," she explained, rolling her eyes and tossing shaking her head causing her long, slightly curled ponytail to fling back and forth. "So what are your plans for the day?"

"Well, I sent my Mom some flowers and called her, Ella, my sister, Mary Lou, and the rest of my close mom friends earlier and I'm having a late lunch with Grandma Mazur to give her her gift in a few hours."

"Sounds fun, your grandmother's the best," Camilla chortled.

"Oh and I helped Gracie with Allegra's gift which she absolutely loved, right Gracie?" I called over to her, drawing her attention away from her meticulous coloring.

"Yeah, Mom loved it! Aunty Steph helped me get my Mom one of those origami owl necklaces. We had them put in a gem in my birthstone, mom's birthstone, the word mom, an angel wing 'cause she says I'm her angel, and a sea shell like we collect whenever we get to go to the beach," Gracie explained with a very excited smile. She and I spent hours secretly pouring over the Origami Owl online catalogue so she could design the perfect gift. Apparently a lot of the mom's at her school had them and she wanted Allegra to have one as well.

"Well that sounds perfect. I bet your mom really loves it," Camilla replied with a bright smile.

"Mhmm, she put it on right away and gave me a huge hug!" Gracie replied before going back to her coloring.

"That was nice of you," Camilla whispered to me.

"I'm just glad she felt comfortable enough to ask me for help. It was pretty adorable," I reminisced, "she brought her ceramic piggy bank when she asked me for help. I told her we'd split the gift planning, she'd do all the picking and I'd handle cost, shipping and gift wrapping," I responded with a shrug.

"You better hope these two munchkins don't realize what a softy you are," Camilla giggled. "So, how'd that call with you mom go?"

"Could've been better but I managed to keep it short and snappy and used my very handy work excuse when she tried to guilt me into a visit," I replied before savoring my final bite of cupcake. "It's not that I don't want to see her, but spending time with her always ends with me frustrated and that's not how I want to spend my Mother's Day," I explained.

"Good for you, seriously!" Camilla replied when she saw my slightly guilty expression, "Besides, did she even wish you a happy Mother's Day back?"

Rather than confirm her assumption, I grabbed a wet one from the twins' diaper bag and helped clean up the rather impressive messes they made with their one bite of cupcake each. Personally, I liked to get all that chocolatey goodness _inside_ my belly but the raspberries were apparently more into wearing it. I wasn't too worried though, they'd figure it out eventually.

* * *

 **SP POV - 11 MAY 2014 (1 Year Ago)**

I trudged to my apartment door, exhausted from my day despite it only being early afternoon. Well, I thought to myself, that's what you get for trying to forge any sort of non-superficial relationship of with my mother. I went with flowers and the german chocolate cake she loves from Italian Peoples' Bakery and all she did for two hours was complain about me. How I didn't show her enough appreciation, how I disgraced her by being pregnant out of wedlock, by not trusting her with the twins' father's identity, my poor choice in profession, my slutty maternity wear, and on and on.

This dress isn't _slutty_ , I thought, looking down at my hot pink, high waisted dress belted with a ribbon and accented with long lace sleeves that was, admittedly, a bit form fitting. But it was very clearly maternity wear, sure it maintained some femininity, but it was still maternity wear. Ugh whatever, she was always going to find something to harp on. It was her nature, I reasoned as I unlocked the door and crossed into my apartment with a bag with a couple of boston cremes stashed under my arm to help ebb the stress of lunch with my mother.

"Surprise!", "Happy Mother's Day" came a chorus of excited screams from inside my apparently occupied apartment.

"What the- what is going on?" I yelled in shock, clutching my Tasty Pastry bag to my chest.

"Surprise Steph! We're throwing you a Mother's Day baby shower!" Mary Lou exclaimed as she and Grandma Mazur pulled me into the living room which had an explosion of baby pink and baby blue balloons and streamers strewn about and all of my close friends gathered to help celebrate the raspberries.

I was pulled into a hug by Victoria who surreptitiously handed me a kleenex. She'd witnessed far too many episodes of me falling prey to pregnancy hormones and knew to be prepared. "Congratulations Steph," she whispered to me.

After a working my way through the room getting hugs, congratulations and complements on my chic pregnancy style, I'd finally settled down a virgin pina colada while Connie helped Calista set up the first baby shower game.

"Guys, before we get started, I just wanted to say thank you for takin time out of your Mother's Days to help celebrate these two with me," I announced, hand lightly resting on my stomach. "I've gone through the gambit of emotions lately, but knowing that I have all of you as support, role models and fonts of information has made this journey much easier than it would've been otherwise. Thank you guys," I said, toasting them with my iced beverage."

"So Grandma," I said, calling her attention from the pile of gifts stacked on the dining table that she was inspecting, "do- do you know when Mom's getting here?" I asked quietly. "I just don't want her to miss the games and stuff," I added when I saw her pitying expression.

"Baby granddaughter, your Mom, well… She-she's not coming. I'm sorry, I tried explaining to her that she needed to come and so did some of your friends," she added quickly as she read the shock and hurt in my eyes. "I'm sorry-"

"It's fine Grandma, she's got things to do and her own life to live. I'm just gonna go freshen up a bit, I'll be right back," I said, heaving myself out of me seat and trundling towards the bathroom.

"Wait white girl, where you going?" Lula stopped me with her words as well as her fashion sense (which today led to a baby blue and pink striped spandex dress of some sort with matching dyed hair and knee high boots). She'd dropped the skinny part of her nickname for me since I reached my fourth month and it was _obvious_ that it no longer applied. Her explaining the change was one of the more hilarious things I'd experienced in the past several months.

"Oh you know, these two keep treating my bladder like a trampoline. I'll just be right back," I said with a forced smile as I breezed past her.

I locked my self in the bathroom and leaned against the counter. Get yourself together, I chastised myself. So what if she couldn't make it and thinks making some sort of passive aggressive stand is more important than her relationship with me or my raspberries. It'd be nice if she'd grow up, but really, there's a room full of people who came to celebrate with me and show me their unwavering support and love. I'm truly blessed, I thought, that I have so many people in my life who truly care. And that is definitely worth being thankful for and celebrating.

* * *

 **Calista Cooper POV - 10 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

I couldn't help fidgeting with my flowy, ruffled, mint summer dress while Lester took me around his Uncle's backyard and introduced me to his extended family. Luckily, my years as a top tier Assistant District Attorney helped me keep track of all of everyone's names (currently 18, if my count was accurate). It was a beautiful if slightly breezy day and the lush backyard was full of people, picnic tables, bouquets of balloons and food. Lots and lots of food.

"Si, claro Enrique, (Spanish: Yes, of course Enrique)" Lester replied to his cousin-brother-in-law's question before steering us towards the buffet spread with a quiet "jackass" muttered under his breath.

"So I take it you're _not_ a fan," I asked with a quirked eyebrow, turning to look at him and tossing my straightened hair over my shoulder.

"Well," he replied, snagging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side without breaking stride, "he's just a lazy, patronizing ass," he shrugged and handed me a fancy paper plate with a floral pattern and worked our way through the buffet behind Daniella, Lester's cousin (and Camilla's sister), and Olivia, Daniella's fiance.

"Daniella, how's the wedding planning going?" I asked as I heaped some incredible smelling rice dish onto my plate.

"Eh, it's mostly just us and a bunch of to do lists that we _never_ seem to finish," she replied.

"Yeah, between both of our jobs, there's not a lot of time to deal with florists or string quartets," Olivia added while she added a spoonful of grilled, seasoned vegetables onto both her and Daniella's plates. They were one of the most impressive couples I'd ever met, Daniella was a human rights lawyer and Olivia was a social worker and after eight years together, they finally decided to officially tie the knot.

"Well, at least Tia (Spanish: Aunt) Valencia, Celia and Camilla are helping with a lot of the details," Lester added, only half-heartedly paying attention once the word 'wedding' was mentioned.

"True, especially since the wedding's in Newark and we live in Boston," Daniella added.

"Do you have most of the details taken care of? It's coming up soon right?" I queried, looking up at Lester for confirmation. Unfortunately he was too busy eating to pay any attention.

"Only a few weeks now!" Olivia replied excitedly, leaning to the side to nudge Daniella playfully with her cream, cap-sleeved shoulder.

"Wow! You must be excited… and stressed," I replied as we got seated at one of the lesser occupied picnic tables.

"Yeah. The only thing that's really annoying me is that my little brother _refuses_ to RSVP," Daniella ground out, glaring at Lester.

"Hey, that's between you and him. I sent in my RSVP months ago," Lester replied with his hands held up in mock surrender. "Oh baby, you're free on the 23rd right?"

"Seriously? You've known for months and you're asking me _now_ , in front of the people who's wedding it is?" I asked incredulously, laughing along with Daniella and Olivia when he smirked and nodded his head in response, his green eyes glinting in mischief. "I thought your brother Raphael was the oldest of all of you?" I asked while warding off Lester's attempt to steal some of my mango salsa.

"Oh yeah, he is and Mia, his wife, already RSVP'd for them. I meant Ranger, you probably haven't met him. He runs the Miami branch of RangeMan and isn't the best communicator," she explained.

"No shit…" I heard Lester mutter under his breath. "I think he's planning on coming and I'll remind him to at least call and let you know," Lester added so Daniella and Olivia could hear.

"Thanks Les," Daniella replied with a bright smile before drawing her purple, ruffled cardigan a little tighter around her.

"Hey, who's talking about Ranger?" Camilla asked, settling in next to me and giving me a quick hug. We hadn't had a chance to talk so far, what with the semi-organized chaos of the Manolo-Santos Mother's Day celebration.

"We were just talking about his lack of adherence to RSVP propriety," I replied swiftly. I knew Camilla didn't know that Stephanie knew Lester, Ranger or any of the RangeMan through anyone but herself and me and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. Stephanie's link to RangeMan could get Camilla a step closer to figuring out the pool of likely fathers for the raspberries. And I know she's been stealthily trying to amass clues to put it together, borne out of curiosity about one of her closest friends. "Oh and um… do you think he'll bring a plus one," I added, in the most surreptitious manner I could manage paired with wide, innocent eyes. "You know, for the table seating chart thing or whatever. All of my friends always get really crazy about that part. Apparently it's like the jigsaw puzzle from hell," I added, relieved when Daniella and Olivia dismissed my question. I chose to ignore the knowing look Lester shot me from his periphery.

"If he does come, it'll just be him," Lester added, slipping his hand under the picnic table to give my thigh a reassuring squeeze.

"Hmm… is he gonna be here for a few extra days? Because I, we," Camilla corrected nodding her head at me, "have a friend that I think would be _perfect_ for him. She's gorgeous, independent and sassy enough to handle his crotchety self."

I was caught completely off guard. At no point since Stephanie met Camilla in a random twist of fate did she hint that she wanted to hook Stephanie up with her brother who Stephanie happened to know. I could feel Lester go tense next to me, his muscles taut and back even more ramrod straight than it usually was. I guess he also recognized what a truly awkward, minefield of an idea trying to hook up Stephanie and Ranger would be.

I heard their conversation continue with Daniella and Olivia asking for more details about Stephanie and why Camilla thought she'd be able to tame their stoic brother. It was more of a dull roar in the background as I thought about how this might play out. At least I had a two weeks' heads up to let Stephanie know about the storm that might be headed her way.

"You done Cal?" Lester's voice, softer than it normally was, brought me back to the present. "Because Abuela (Spanish: Grandma) Rosa's headed this way, _probably_ to see if she thinks you're good enough for her nieto mejor (Spanish: favorite grandson)," Lester added with a wink before dropping a quick kiss to my temple and pulling me out of my seat.

He's lucky he's so devastatingly handsome, I thought. Well, that and honorable, incredibly fun to be with, and… man, I was in trouble, I realized, looking up into his deep, green gaze and letting him tug me toward his grandmother, her hair pulled in a grey-white bun at the nape of her neck, a red and cream crocheted shawl draped elegantly over her shoulders and a very beautiful, familiar smile adorning her lips.

"Alright Les, lead the way," I said, returning his smile after leaning up to give him a small kiss on the cheek, "but you should know that parents _love_ me and I don't want to hear any complaining when she decides she likes me better than you!" I added, skipping away.

* * *

 **Lester Santos POV - 11 MAR 2014 (1 Year and 2 Months Ago)**

What a long ass, bullshit day, I thought, as I walked down the scuffed, concrete steps of the Mercer County courthouse. I just spent the past four hours testifying and being cross-examined on behalf for RangeMan tracking and apprehending Clive Graham, a British teen prodigy turned money launderer who the FBI had on it's Christmas list for almost a year before we found him. I loosened my aegean blue tie (apparently blue conveys truthfulness and it would help soften my badass look, according to the D.A.) and rubbed a hand through my hair, disheveling it.

I was just walking to my 1968 Chevrolet Camaro when I noticed someone following me, the sound of her heels telegraphing her hurried pace. I slipped between my car and truck and waited for her to pursue me. The instincts I'd honed over a lifetime of hunting down scum told me exactly when she would cautiously step beyond the truck and I grabbed her wrist and spun her so that her back was up against the truck and she was caged in by my body.

"What the fu-Ca-Calista? Stephanie's friend? Why the _hell_ are you following me?" I growled, taking in Stephanie's slightly disheveled friend's appearance. She was wearing a high-waisted, red pencil skirt with gauzy, cream blouse and one of those skinny belts that doesn't have any functional value. I lowered my arms from holding her up against the truck but didn't step back. I looked into her fiery, hazel eyes.

"Ugh! _Seriously?_ Seriously!" she fumed unintelligibly, "I… ugh!" she screamed at me while shoving her tightly balled up fists against my chest.

"Calista? Calista," I said sternly when she nodded that I'd gotten her name right, "what's going on? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she huffed with a "as if you'd care," muttered under her breath.

"Listen Calista, I've had a crap day with some asshat criminal defense attorney try to drag me and my business through the mud. I'm not in the mood for any chick drama bullshit. So, just tell me what's wrong," I said in a clipped tone and released a breath when the crazy in her eyes seemed to recede.

"I'm just… annoyed, _Santos_ ," she bit out my name like it was a dirty word. "Annoyed at you. Well, not _you_ , your friend. And people like you wi-with your _stupid_ shit-ton of muscles and bad boy magnetism," she huffed with narrowed eyes, one of her balled up fists turning into a pointed finger that she jabbed into my pectoral muscle.

I couldn't help the smirk that graced my features or the thorough perusal I gave her, finally enjoying the snug fit of her wardrobe and tousled, dirty blonde hair. "Muscles and magnetism, huh? Is that your thing? Does the hard-ass assistant D.A. have a thing for bad boys?" I queried, leaning forward to crowd in on Calista, enjoying the slight hitch in her breath and her eyes dropping from mine to rove appreciatively over my chest.

"N-No? No!" she replied after a short delay, her eyes shooting back up to hold mine, anger bristling in them.

Something about Calista had always enticed me, but I'd only run into her a few times and always with Stephanie who tended to be overprotective and was regrettably very familiar with my playboy reputation. However, my frequent forays into debauchery have gifted me with the ability to tell when a woman wanted to take a break from her real life and work off some stress. And by the glint in Calista's eyes, see was looking for some angry, hate sex, which, frankly, sounded perfect. We'd been spread a little thin at RangeMan over the past six months having lost Ranger and Bobby to a mission and Stephanie to w*ish and I really needed the stress relief as well.

"I'm," she huffed out a breath before continuing her thought, "I talked to St-someone today, a friend, and she's going through a tough time because her muscle-bound idiot is M.I.A. and all she wants is a conversation but _no_ , he's too busy being his stoic _jackass_ self that he can't be bothered to…" her diatribe tapered off as she saw me inching closer, boxing her in up against the truck as her gaze bounced between my eyes, lips and chest.

I leaned in and kissed her plump, nude colored lips, lightly at first and more aggressively as she matched my motions. I pulled her into my arms, ran my hands down her back and over her hips before hooking my hands under her perfect ass and hoisting her up and around onto the trunk of my car. I leaned back and locked eyes with her equally angry and lusty gaze as she pushed her palms against my chest. "I'm _still_ angry at your whole species of men, okay?"

"Sure thing baby," I smirked before stepping flush against her and snaking my arms around her and into her silky hair, oblivious to the fact that I'd just embarked on one of the most scintillating adventures of my life. I was more focused on the fun that there was to be had. I'd ask her about her friend after.

* * *

 **SP POV - 10 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"And this is my gift to you," Grandma Mazur exclaimed excitedly, handing me a giant water bottle filled with a margarita with a gleeful smile, "because you're finally _completely_ done breastfeeding!"

I picked Grandma Mazur up at the Clip 'n Curl and she, I and the raspberries headed to the Trenton Sculpture Garden for a Mother's Day picnic. We were seated in the grass near a sculpture called The Nine Muses. It was a set of granite statues in a 'U' that were influenced by Greece and Egypt and surrounded by water with several lily pads. I didn't really get high-brow art, I was more equipped to appreciate Manolo Blahniks or Ziad Nakad gowns, but it was peaceful and secluded, which was exactly what we were hoping for.

We'd set the twins up with their lunch so we could do our gift exchange in peace before eating because neither one of us was particularly good at waiting when it came to presents. We'd caught each other sneaking peeks at our Christmas presents several times over the years.

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed after a long drink of the salty, tangy yumminess that was my Mother's Day gift. "This is _amazing_!" I'd been pretty strict with myself about not drinking until I was sure the twins were done breastfeeding because I wasn't really comfortable with the whole pump and dump concept. "Thank you so much Grandma!" I said, giving her a huge hug before settling back onto our piebald picnic blanket.

"You're welcome baby granddaughter. Now, before you give me my gift, tell me what you got yourself from the twins. You _did_ get something for you from them, right?" she asked at my slight hesitation.

"Yeah, I did. I feel kinda silly though," I replied, fidgeting with the fringed edge of the picnic blanket.

"Nonsense," Grandma dismissed my concern, "I always got myself something for Mother's Day until Helen was old enough to get me something."

"What about Grandpa Henry?" I asked.

"Well, you know Burg men, they tend to be too reserved and wrapped up in themselves to realize how something as simple as a card and flowers or chocolate would make a world of difference a few times a year," Grandma explained softly. "Luckily _Luke_ is nothing like that."

"Oh? And did _he_ get you something?" I asked, curious as to the glint in her eyes.

"Well, I'm not sure, but we do have a special date planned tonight," she explained with a bright smile.

"I'm really happy for you Grandma. Really, really happy. You deserve it," I said.

We both got lost in our thoughts and watching the twins as they slowly and curiously ate the pilaf rice I'd made. Ella's cooking lessons were essentially a healthy round the world trip for my tastebuds and, luckily, the twins really enjoyed the variety of flavors.

"So, your gift from the twins that you helped them pick?" Grandma prodded after taking a huge sip of her own margarita.

"I, um, this is what I got," I replied, gesturing to my earrings. I'd gotten myself emerald cut earrings in the twins' birthstone, alexandrite.

"Oh, those are beautiful," Grandma exclaimed. "They look lovely, good job gummy bears," she beamed at the twins, giving each of them a kiss on the forehead and ruffling their hair. I'd dressed them in their matching 'If you think I'm cute you should see my Great-Grandma!' t-shirts which tickled Grandma and led to an extended photoshoot when we picked her up. "Okay, my turn!" Grandma announced, hands outstretched for her present.

"Here you go," I handed her a folder with a bow stuck to the front of it. "Just open it," I added at her befuddled expression.

"Okay," she replied warily, laying the folder open across her lavender velour tracksuit pants. She read through the card I'd slid into one side and by the time she reached the end her eyes were rheumy and her mouth was slightly agape. "Wha-bu-Steph, this is too much," she whispered as she looked over the pamphlets I'd included. "Is this… are you sure about this?" she queried softly, her eyes running over the twins before meeting mine.

" _Absolutely_. I've wanted to do this for years, this is just the first time I could," I said, sincerity shining in my eyes. After several hours brainstorming, I decided to get her an apartment. She wasn't free to be at my parents' house and she deserved some happy in her life. I'd done some research on various apartments in and around the Burg and included their pamphlets in the folder.

"Wow, an apartment _all_ my own. You know, I've never lived alone," she commented, her eyes glazed in thought.

"Well, now you can do all the fun living alone stuff, like cooking in your underwear, dancing around and dessert first!" I exclaimed causing us both to laugh at the antics we knew she would definitely be getting into without my mother to police her.

"I-this is incredible. I'm so proud of your generosity. Thank you," she said, squeezing my hand in gratitude.

"I just want you to be happy and I think this would make you happy," I explained softly. Grandma Mazur had been a supportive force pushing me to pursue my dreams when I when to college, got divorced, went to design school, started working at RangeMan, founded w*ish and decided to embrace being a single parent. She'd always supported me and I wanted to help her as she struck out to pursue what made her happy, which this month included Luke.

"Thank you, baby granddaughter," she said sniffling and surreptitiously wiping her eyes. "Okay," she announced, clapping her hands together, "let's eat. This fancy rice smells delicious!"

"It's _all_ Ella, the woman is a genius!"

"Yum! Okay, you have to make this for Luke sometime," she replied offhandedly, scooping some pilaf rice onto both of our plates.

"What?"

"Oh yeah, he really wants to meet you. In fact, I really want him to meet you too," Grandma added with a bright smile.

* * *

 **Edna Mazur POV - 21 JUN 2014 (11 Months Ago)**

"Okay, Steph, you gotta get ready to push," I told my granddaughter, wiping a little sweat from her clammy brow and trying not to wince as she squeezed my hand.

"Grandma, I-I don't think I can do this. It hurts, like a lot. _Way_ more than I thought it would," she whispered between harsh breaths.

"Well, what did you _think_ was gonna happen?" I scoffed at her before readjusting my tactic at the terrified look she shot me. "Steph, it won't be much longer, I promise. You just have to really push the next time the doc says, okay?"

"Mhmm," she mumbled, nodding her head, her curly hair frizzed out and sticking to her sweat slicked neck and forehead.

"Good girl," I replied, tipping a few ice-chips into her mouth and trying not to laugh as she angrily chomped down on them and mumbled under her breath about "killing him." Murder threats made while sporting a sweaty hospital gown were decidedly humorous.

"Your grandmother's right Stephanie. I just need you to get me one good push and your first twin will be out," Dr. Whitfield said, looking surprisingly calm in the too bright, sterile smelling hospital room.

" _Fine_ ," Stephanie eventually huffed, glaring at the doctor and rolling her eyes.

"Okay, you can do this. One, two, three," Dr. Whitfield said sharply, looking up at us from the end of Stephanie's hospital bed.

"Aaaargh!" Stephanie yelled while hunched forward tensely before flopping back into the bed, tears streaming silently out of her eyes.

"Okay, we're almost there, just a little more," Carla, the nurse, said, urging Stephanie one.

Stephanie huffed before moaning her way through another giant push. "Is one of them…" Stephanie asked faintly, resting against the bed.

"Good job Mommy. We've got a beautiful baby girl," Dr. Whitfield announced, handing a squirmy bundle to the nurse who carried her over to the side of the room.

"Serafina," Stephanie whispered, awe in her tone as her eyes followed her daughter raptly.

Wow, I thought, Stephanie, my Stephanie, was a officially a mother. Wonder Woman does motherhood.

"We've got ten fingers and ten toes," Carla announced gleefully, "I'm just going to clean her up and I'll bring her-".

"Carla, I need a hand. We've got a lot of bleeding, more than there should be," Dr. Whitfield bit out sharply.

"What!" I exclaimed, waffling my gaze between the doctor's tight expression and Stephanie who was looking considerably more faint than she had just moments ago. "Stephanie!" I shouted, hoping to wake her and blinking furiously to keep a wave of tears at bay.

"Dr. Whitfield, what do you want to do," Carla queried, handing the doctor several fistfuls of gauze and glancing trepidatiously up at Stephanie.

"She _has_ to be okay, do something!" I cried, "please!"

"Mrs. Mazur, we're going to have to do an emergency C-section. Carla, notify transport," Dr. Whitfield barked out, standing up and moving to help roll Stephanie out of the room.

"Wha-is… is she going to be okay?" I called out as a burly man entered the room and helped the doctor and nurse roll Stephanie away as our hands were pulled apart.

"We will do our best for her and her son," Dr. Whitfield promised me, her chocolate gaze locked steadily on mine before she left the room to follow Stephanie down the hallway toward the surgical area., leaving me to slump jerkily down into a chair, tears streaming down my face.

I couldn't lose her. I couldn't lose them.


	11. Chapter 8

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading along and for all of the favorites and reviews! Also, the next chunk of the story starts with the next chapter, so this is the last of the intro/background stuff and the rest of the plot/flashbacks move the story along at a faster and more exciting clip.

Just a quick clarification, the last flashback of Chapter 7 was to showcase her delivery; everything ends up fine with her and Theo.

* * *

 **Part I. "A man, when he WISHes, is the master of his fate." - Jose Ferrer**

 **Chapter 8**

 **Christopher 'Viper' Ward POV - 11 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

I'd been waiting at the Miami International Airport for about ten minutes when I saw my charge for the day enter the baggage claim area, looking around with without missing a step in some truly impressive black patent leather pointed heels with some gold chain detailing and a mane of curly, chocolate tresses that fell to her halfway down her back. She spotted me right away and rolled her striking, blue eyes before readjusting her attaché strap more securely on her shoulder and heading straight towards me.

"I take it you're my Merry Man for the day?" she sassed, staring sunnily up at me.

I'd never had the pleasure of meeting the infamous Stephanie Plum, porche-icidist extraordinaire of Trenton, New Jersey before, but down in Miami we'd heard about her, the scrapes she managed to get herself into and her very impressive deductive skills since she started at RangeMan in 2012. The fact that she'd been hired was surprising until she managed to cut down on a huge portion of our paper work and streamlined our purchasing to reduce costs. Although the stories of her friendship with several RangeMan Trenton employees, especially members of the Core Team, were the most surprising developments during her full-time tenure at RangeMan. Most RangeMan employees had googled Stephanie Plum and knew that she was the proprietor and designer of w*ish lingerie, but none of us had the balls to run a full background check on her with the more invasive, proprietary search programs we had access to for fear that Ranger, a Core Team member, or one of the Trenton guys would come across a record of our search inquiry and flay us on the mats. Frankly, I was just flattered that of all the employees in Miami, I was the one Lester and Tank trusted to keep an eye on her for the day she spent in Miami. Of course, I was the only one outside of Lester and Tank who knew my client for the day was Stephanie Plum per her insistence; officially, I was chauffeuring around some high society trophy wife.

"Merry Man, huh? I suppose I could pull that off," I commented dryly, grabbing her attaché by the handles, "I'm Viper, Ma'am, I'll be driving you around today," I said, holding my hand out to shake hers.

"Call me Stephanie, please. You're Viper? From Lester's story about convincing a group of cartel members to steal the cartel leader's pet tiger as the opening salvo of a coup?" she asked, a look of surprise on her face.

"Ah, Fofo (Portuguese: Fluffy), beautiful animal but tended to be rather peckish," I replied with a smirk, relieved that she knew me by that story rather than the ones regarding picking up women with her our mutual friends. "So M-Stephanie," I corrected quickly at her drawn look, "where do you need me to take you today?" I asked, leading her out to the Jeep in classic RangeMan black at the curb and helping her into the front seat when she staunchly refused to sit in the back.

"I was wondering if we could walk by a few locations in downtown Miami and then grab some lunch. After that I have a handful of back to back meetings set up at Roho Coffeehouse," Stephanie explained.

I nodded in response and aimed the Jeep towards downtown as Stephanie answered a phone call.

"Hey, how's everything going?" she asked, nodding along as the female voice on the other end replied, "a-and how's Theo doing? He was a little feverish this morning," she added in a whisper while angling her body towards the passenger side window and casting me a furtive glance to check for any eavesdropping.

Shit, I thought as she continued her conversation, I guess those rumors of a relationship, albeit on an extended hiatus, between her and one of the Core Team members was either crap or outdated. Knowing him, it was probably the latter and _probably_ his fault.

And he would definitely be a bear to work for if he ever found out I'd spent the day with her or kept the existence of her new leading man, Theo, a secret. Fan-freaking-tastic.

* * *

 **SP POV - 12 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Here you go," I said, handing Ella her mocha latte only to find her already immersed in one of the furniture catalogues I'd brought for our coffee date. We'd made decisions on appliances and hardware after our last Mommy and Me weeks ago and all that was left was furniture and decor. Ella had already asked me several questions and put together a few Pinterest boards for me to figure out what style I wanted, and now we were just making final decisions so everything would be ready for our move in date in 12 days.

"Okay Steph, mija (Spanish: my daughter), I think our best plan is to go room by room and make decision so that we don't forget anything. What room do you want to start with?" Ella asked me, before enjoying a deep whiff of her beverage and taking a long sip.

"How about we start with the downstairs?" I suggested, continuing at her nod as I settled into the wooden seat across from her. "Okay, so I was thinking a different versions of a blue color theme for most of the downstairs. Sky blue, black and white for the kitchen. I'd like to keep the feel warm with maybe an oak table in the kitchen nook," I explained.

"That sounds lovely," Ella said, nodding as she made a few notes in the catalogue she was flipping through. "What about the living and dining rooms?"

"I was thinking cobalt blue and silver for the dining room with a cappuccino or almost black wood table and varying shades of blue and grey for the living room," I explained, looking at a few pages Ella had attached post-it notes to.

"Mhmm. That will look great with the huge windows and all of that sunlight. And you could carry the color theme to the pool area outside," Ella suggested.

The backyard had a grassy area, a rectangular pool and a stone bonfire pit. "Okay, we could do a caribbean or turquoise blue by the pool?"

"Perfect. Okay, so is that all of the downstairs?" Ella asked, taking a small bite of the apple cinnamon scone I'd gotten for us to share. "Mmm, this is delicious. I wonder if they'd share their recipe," she wondered softly, grabbing another catalogue from my stack and flipping through it.

"Well, I was thinking shades of purple for the half bathroom that's right off the living room," I added.

"Hmmm. That sounds good but I think sticking with just an icy blue and white or mother of pearl would keep it lighter and airy," Ella recommended.

"Ooh, I really like that," I replied, nodding my head as I visualized it.

"So, on to the upstairs?" Ella asked.

"Um. Well, there's a guest bedroom and ensuite downstairs, but I'm not sure what to do with it. I was thinking I'd just keep it neutral with dark browns and black or cream and black?" I said hurriedly, my eyes focused on my frappuccino. I could feel the heat of Ella's knowing, motherly gaze on me as she reached out and patted my hand, clearly understanding that I'd intentionally chosen a strong, masculine feel for that room but accepting my decisions without prying until I was ready to share. I cleared my throat and continued with the upstairs rooms. "So, for my bedroom upstairs, I was thinking lilac and silver with some darker accents in like a violet."

"Or perhaps plum?" Ella teased. "That sounds very pretty and reminiscent of w*ish and would go great with walnut or mahogany furniture. What about the office room, that's upstairs, right?"

"I was thinking a pale yellow and white for that room to take advantage of the huge windows and light. What color do you think would be good for the drawing desk?" I asked, contemplating where I'd be doing my w*ish designing from here on out.

"Personally, I think oak would look great. It's airy and will go great with those colors. Ooh, we could get you some romantic, gauzy tie-back curtain," Ella said excitedly, clearly getting into this new, creative project.

"Oh man, I can't wait to go there for work starting in 12 days," I said longingly.

"So, all that is left are the twins' rooms. Do you want to stick to the zoo theme you're using at your apartment?" Ella asked, going back to her perusal of her hardware restoration catalogue.

I thought back to all of the Pinterest ideas Ella had gathered regarding nurseries and all I knew for sure was that I wasn't ready for them to not be in the same room. Several of the themes seemed fun like balloons, the alphabet, fairy tales, Dr. Seuss, space and super heroes, of course. Unfortunately, the decision wasn't any easier the second time around, I thought, as I reminisced about how my current nursery was decorated.

* * *

 **SP POV - 11 MAY 2014 (1 Year Ago)**

"Bomber, open up!" I heard Tank's bellow punctuate his sharp knocking as I blearily waddled my way to the front door.

I ripped open the door, my other hand supporting my back as I looked out at most of the Merry Men crowded in my hallway with entirely too much energy given the time of day. "Do you guys know what time it is?" I demanded.

"It's 0600 Beautiful," Lester replied cheerfully, ambling in and walking me into the kitchen with an arm around my neck.

"Damn Bombshell's really fu-freaking pregnant," I heard one of the guys mumble as they got a good look at me.

I tried glaring back over my shoulder at them but Lester just kept pulling me into the kitchen and laughed under his breath when another Merry Man queried if I wasn't indeed having triplets or quadruplets. Jerks.

"I'm over _seven_ months pregnant," I huffed. "Guys, what's going on?" I asked as roughly 15 burly men crowded into my kitchen.

"Well, Ella told us about your baby shower," Tank explained, taking a seat next to me at the dining table.

"Yeah, to tell us we _weren't_ invited," Hal huffed under his breath, scuffing his boots on the tiled kitchen floor.

"And we're here to give you your baby shower gift," Tank finished, nodding his head at all of the guys.

"Okay?" I asked, still trying to blink the sleep out of my eyes.

"Just hang here for a bit and have some of Ella's delicious Greek vegetable quiche," Cal said, placing a fork and glass tupperware container which was wafting a delicious aroma in front of me on the table, "and we'll just get to work."

"Mmmm. That smells amazing," I said, sniffing slightly and still not understanding what they were doing in my kitchen at stupid o'clock. "Wait, what is my gift?"

"You're gonna love it Bombshell," Woody added with his trademark drawl while the rest of the Merry Men nodded in agreement, their excitement palpable.

"Si, Estephania, lo amirs (Spanish: Yes, Stephanie, you will love it)," Hector added, a genuine smile graced his often stoic features and lightened his too-serious, dark eyes.

The early morning haze had cleared a little and I was able to take a better look around at all of the Merry Men crowded into around the table, their eyes focused on me and finally noticed the items they'd brought in. They were holding a few cans of paint, rollers, paintbrushes, some tarp and a toolbox. "What's with all the paint stuff?"

"We're setting up the twins' nursery!" Lester announced excitedly, causing all of the Merry Men to beam at me.

The gravity of their gift hit me like a tidal wave and I slumped back in my chair with a creak, tears streaming from eyes. I'd discussed setting up the nursery with several people and kept making excuses until Calista and Victoria finally sat me down and confronted me about it. According to them and their online research, setting up the nursery and nesting was a way for a couple to prepare for the upcoming changes a baby would bring. I argued that my continually expanding belly were all the reminder of reality I needed, but apparently the reason I was reticent to set up or make any decisions about the nursery was because it was more for the soon-to-be father than the soon-to-be mother and the minefield that things with the twins' father was directly linked to my unfinished nursery.

"Oh shit," I heard of a few of the Merry Men mumble as they shifted nervously, unsure how to react to my sudden waterworks.

"Steph, Beautiful?" Lester asked tentatively, "what uh… what's wrong?"

"N-nothing's wrong," I blubbered, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of my soft, jersey robe, "it's so _sweet_ an-and I… I," I couldn't seem to stem my tears long enough to thank them properly much less assure them that everything was okay.

"Well, we're gonna get started with the paint and putting together furniture, okay Little Girl," Tank said softly, awkwardly patting me on the shoulder in an effort to stave off my tears. "Let us know if we can do anything," he added before heaving himself out of his seat and heading through the living room to the nursery room, nodding his head at the Merry Men to follow him and leave me to emote in peace.

Most of the guys followed suit except Hector who looked up and shook his head in disappointment before rounding to my side of the table and stooping to give me a hug and pressing a kiss to my temple. "Estamos hacienda un tema zoológico," he added.

"You're a… Zoo?" I asked, trying to to decipher what he'd said.

"He said we're doing a zoo theme for the nursery decor," Zip translated for me from the living room where he and Chase were putting together a changing table with an alarmingly thick instruction booklet.

"Really?" I beamed at them, finally getting past the dour phase to fully embrace the excited phase as I envisioned what the nursery could look like and the possibilities for zoo-themed decor.

* * *

 **SP POV - 13 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Theo, Serafina, look at this!" I exclaimed as I made a giant, three-foot long bubble, it's iridescent surface bending and shining in the light and delighting in the gleeful giggles it elicited from my raspberries.

After a day spent interviewing potential w*ish franchise owners and checking out available storefronts locations on Rodeo Drive, Reggie, the twins and I decided to relax a little at Zimmer Children's Museum. Presently, we were at the bubble exhibit that had several containers of bubble liquid and bubble wands of various shapes and sizes for people to explore with.

Reggie had spent the time making sure I had all of the applicants' resumes and background checks while she entertained the twins at our hotel, taking a break to meet me for lunch. After I finished for the day, I decided to take the twins to explore sunny California while Reggie went off on her own to do the same but probably with more alcohol and flirting. I definitely needed to recharge before another day of trying to figure out which brown nosing stranger I trusted most to take the help of w*ish along the west coast.

"Bye-bye, bye-bye," Serafina said with Theo providing a chorus after he reached out and gingerly popped the bubble with an outstretched finger.

"Oops!" I chortled, "should we make another one?" I queried the twins, dipping the bubble wand back into the sudsy liquid.

"Mama, Mama, Mama," Theo replied, clapping his hands while Serafina giggled with her arms outstretched to take hold of the wand herself. I let Serafina help me hold the wand and guided her adorable, polka-dot sleeved arm to dip the bubble wand and glide it horizontally through the air to create a 14-inch diameter bubble that wobbled in front of the three of us until Theo reached out to pop it again with another round of "bye-bye, bye-bye, bye-bye."

Unfortunately, Serafina did not share his glee at watching the bubble burst spectacularly in front of us and pouted at me, her eyes becoming slightly rheumy. "It's okay, Serafina," I said, "we can make another one." This time, I helped Theo wield a different, square shaped bubble wand to create a bubble which caused Serafina to applaud and forget her near teary state just moment ago.

We played with the bubble wands for a bit before I took the twins over to the Rhythms of the World exhibit that featured several types of percussion instruments arranged by their country of origin. The twins were clearly on their way to being brilliant, musical prodigies as they displayed their innate talents (that Mrs. Tune, my piano teacher could confirm they did not gain from me) at temple blocks, a kalimba, crotales and slit drums. Naturally, I ignored the fact that they used some of the instruments incorrectly per their informative placards.

* * *

 **SP POV - 15 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Hey ladies!" I announced as I plopped into the empty seat between Mary Lou and Victoria. I'd just gotten back from California after having narrowed the potential candidates down to two that I felt comfortable with, dropped the raspberries off with my father because he missed Mommy and Me time with them (apparently my Mother was helping with some church event) before meeting Victoria, Calista, Mary Lou, Lula, Connie and Camilla at Banzai Sushi in downtown Trenton.

"Well look who it is!" Connie exclaimed, leaning across the table to placing a small cup of what I assumed was saki in front of me, "your Grandma told me you were officially back to drinking!"

"Really? That just made girls' night _way_ more fun!," Calista exclaimed, clinking her glass to mine as we all took a sip.

A few minutes later we'd ordered several rolls of sushi to share and were tasting our way through a majority of Banzai Sushi's menu.

"So skinny white girl, how's your cross country traveling going?" Lula asked amid bites of her Asian Cajun sushi roll dripping in soy sauce.

"Yeah? How is the next phase of w*ish coming along?" Victoria added, nudging me with her shoulder.

"It's going okay. Some of the people were a lot better on paper than they were in real life, but I was able to find at least one or two people in each city so far that I liked and some really great potential storefronts that I can totally picture as being amazing. Hopefully, things will work out in Vegas and then we just have to make our final choices next Thursday," I replied before unceremoniously shoving a bite of California roll into my mouth.

"Oh, Steph, about that. Can we move the meeting to Wednesday? I have wedding stuff on Thursday and I think the wedding stress has finally gotten to my sister. I'm a little terrified to tell her I can't make it," Camilla joked, accidentally dripping some soy sauce onto her white and red striped sweater.

"Sure, just let Tucker know and I'll tell Aeneas and Duncan," I replied with a shrug, swiping a chunk of hair behind my ear.

"Aeneas, huh?" Connie smirked at me before downing her drink and refilling her glass. "What? They're really tiny glasses!" she exclaimed at my raised eyebrow.

"His name is Aeneas. What should I call him?" I snarked.

"It's just a little familiar for referring to your investor is all," Mary Lou explained slowly, as if I was slow for not realizing where they were going with this. Although, they'd implied as much before, so I did have some idea as to how the remainder of this line of inquiry went.

"Makes us wonder if there's some pleasure you're mixing in with the business you two do," Victoria sassed, looking at me expectantly.

"What? No! Guys, we've gone over this," I replied in an exasperated tone, opting to ignore their query entirely. "So Cam, your sister's turned into a Bride-zilla?" Sure, it wasn't the smoothest segue, but it worked, sorta.

"Ugh yeah. Daniella and Olivia were super chill about everything until the day after Mother's Day and now they're making up for their previous apathy with over the top crazy," she replied, her eyes wide in horror as she relieved some memory.

"Brides really are the _worst_. I remember when my sister Tina was getting married, she wanted pearls on everything, the centerpieces, the cake, the dress. Everything," she explained, her arm gestures becoming more and more exaggerated. "And well, my uncle has a soft spot for the two of us because he's only got sons, so he made sure to cater to her every whim until she demanded crushed pearls be used on her wedding invitations. He tried to explain to her what a waste it was but finally gave in because he, Donny the Fixer, was terrified of _her_ after she threw an epic tantrum and ended up throwing her wedding planning album through the glass patio door," Connie finished recounting with a shrug, as if that level of vandalism was expected of the average bride-zilla.

"Damn, okay. Perspective. Thanks," Camilla replied, "well, at least Daniella hasn't resorted to outright violence. They're more into subtle threats, glaring and expert use of passive aggressiveness which has me taking off from now until the wedding to help out." After rolling her eyes at our humor rather than sympathy at her predicament, she continued. "Steph, will the custom lingerie gifts we talked about be ready in time for the bridal shower on the 21st?"

"Yeah, the'll definitely be ready and I promise they'll love them and you for getting them," I replied, glad at the slight relieved look that lightened her features.

"Perfect, I think that'll help me get back in their good graces. She assigned me the task of calling the stragglers who haven't RSVP'd yet and I still can't get one of my Brothers to reply. I mean, I get that he's stoic but seriously, but the fact that the first time he's chosen to visit since he moved down to Miami like eight or nine months ago is not a state secret!" Camilla huffed, shaking her head at her brother's antics as she dipped a piece of Godzilla roll into her soy sauce and wasabi mixture.

"Your brother lives in Miami?" Lula asked slowly, realizing who she was referring to.

"Mhmm," she relied absentmindedly as she chewed her bite.

"You know what might be worse than bride-zillas? Women getting divorced, right?" Connie interjected after shooting Lula a castigating look.

"I totally agree. I didn't care when it came to my wedding, although that might be because my mom sorta took everything over and it snowballed into a pouffy, taffeta nightmare that couldn't be stopped," I agreed.

"I'm pretty sure tossing Dickie's crap onto the lawn and setting it all on fire after kicking him and Joyce out naked trumps any amount of bride-zilla that you could've been capable of," Victoria chortled, lightening the atmosphere as we proceeded to share divorce stories.

* * *

 **SP POV - 11 APR 2014 (1 Year and 1 Month Ago)**

"Damn! I guess I can't be calling you _skinny_ no more, huh? Now you're just white girl!" Lula announcement along with her purple and brown striped hair greeted me as I walked into Pino's and alerting the entire restaurant to my presence. And unintentionally leading credence to the rumors that have been swirling around the Burg over the past few weeks that I had a bun in my oven.

I'd told Lula and Connie about my pregnancy at our last Girls' Night and after the initial shock and affront at my keeping them in the dark they demanded a follow up dinner to get the details. I was just relieved that they weren't holding a grudge at my secrecy as they were prone to. I recall an awkward three months when I first helped Lula to land the filing job at Vinnie's and she froze Tank out with her patented silent treatment because she didn't take his slightly crass appreciation of her bootie. She eventually decided it was a complement of the highest order, but it was mighty frosty at the bonds office while she was deliberating.

I trundled over to their table, surrounded by low murmurs, discrete glances and the aroma of fresh marinara before plopping down across from Connie. "Hey guys," I greeted them and gave a little wave to Eddie Gazarra, Carl Constanza and Big Dog who were sitting at a table nearby.

"Hey guys?" Connie scoffed in her thick Jersey accent, "you get knocked up, spring it on us when almost ready to pop, and then you come in here with a hey guys? Nu-uh. We want details!" She punctuated her statement by strumming her crimson nails on the scuffed, walnut table top.

"Alright, alright. What do you wanna know?" I replied, grabbing a slice of pizza that they'd ordered while waiting for me.

"Well, what we _really_ want to know is who the guy is," Lula said with a pointed look, "but you've already told us you're not sharing that juicy bit of gossip, so, we'll settle on pregnancy details."

"Okay, we'll aside from my hormones going crazy and feeling a little uncomfortable about the baby bump," I said, my hand placed gently on my stomach, "I've actually been doing pretty well."

"Yeah, yeah Steph. That's great, but you know what we really want is the dirt!" Connie added.

"Well…" I began, "when I first found out I was pretty…"

"Shocked?" Connie offered at my hesitation.

"Pissed? Shoot, I'd be pissed," Lula corrected.

"More catatonic than anything else. I was just sort of numb until I realized I needed to get my stuff together and come up with a plan," I explained before enjoying a giant bite out of our warm, cheesy pizza, one of my pre-baby diet staples that I rarely indulged in anymore.

"I can't believe you went through so much change lately between the pregnancy, moving and w*ish," Connie said amid bites of pizza.

"Yeah, but I'm glad you didn't give up on w*ish. Tankie _really_ likes those panties you make," Lula added.

"Well, by the time I figured out about the raspberries, I'd already moved to Newark and figured out financing for w*ish. And," I added, my hands resting on my stomach, "they kinda made me want to work even harder to make my dream come true," I replied.

"Okay, we have to stop with the mushy stuff," Connie demanded, breaking up the moment.

I was explaining the upsides to stretch-top pregnancy pants when we were interrupted by the exaggerated scoffing coming from Molly Tompkins at the adjacent table. Molly and my sister Valerie went to school together and had both graduated from college with MRS degrees and proceeded to procreate. Currently, Molly was what looked like eight months pregnant but was probably only four and had her other three children with her, all under the age of 10.

"Do you need some water?" Connie asked, turning around in her seat and leveling Molly with a sassily arched eyebrow.

"Oh no, I'm alright. It's just… well, this is a _family_ establishment…" she said in a fake, apologetic tone and nodding her head in my direction.

"So what? We all got families. Now get back to yours," Lula snapped, swiveling in her seat and further taxing the stretching capacity of her purple and bronze swirled spandex mini dress.

"I would like to," she huffed, unperturbed that her rant was garnering the attention of other patrons, "but I can't really enjoy my family meal while listening to that… that _jezebel_ is going on and on about her pregnancy. Flaunting her future… future bastards for everyone-"

" _Excuse_ me?" I shouted followed closely by a shout of outrage from Connie, a colorful exclamation from Lula and murmurs from other Pino's customers.

"What? It's the truth and _everyone_ is thinking it," she retorted, gesturing wildly around. "And then you waltz in here thinking you're _better_ than everyone with your fancy new shop when you're really just a disappointment to your mother and having a child out of wedlock!"

"I-wha-you-do-" I sputtered, the anger burning up inside of me at her vitriolic diatribe was apparently preventing me from forming complete thoughts. I was so furious and unfortunately, my thoughts were racing by too quickly for me to pick any one of them to throw at her.

"Hu-uh, you don't come up in here and talk smack about _my_ girl!" Lula interjected when she realized my brain had stalled.

"Damn straight!" Connie added, hands akimbo, "and you should really think before talking trash because you hear things working at a bonds office and I doubt you'd want the fine patrons of this family establishment to know certain _truths_ about your supposedly upstanding husband!"

"Please," she scoffed, "you can't _threaten_ me! Don't you know who I am?"

"Yeah, you're the broad who had a shotgun wedding to Justin Tompkins, the scumbag lawyer who's had a bi-weekly standing date with Pogo-Stik. I knew him at my old job. Where I was a hooker," Lula added with a smirk, not at all bothered by the sharp intakes of breath and muttering that her announcement caused.

"Wha-you're lying! You're just some slutty, fat, lo-" Molly snapped back hotly.

"Oh you did not just call me fat! I'm not fat! I'm… I'm," Lula retorted.

"Voluptuous. She's voluptuous and awesome and you're just a bitter housewife with nothing better to do than gossip," I replied, touched at how ardently my friends defended me.

"And you and your friends should think twice about sharing any more truths," Connie added in an eerily calm, threatening tone, "because Mr. Stik is just the tip of the iceberg." Connie grabbed her overstuffed purse, hooked her arm with mine and pulled me out of the restaurant followed closely by Lula and a round of cheering by fellow victims of gossiping burg harpies.

"So," Lula asked as we headed into the parking lot and trotted across the macadam to where we parked, "are you sure they're raspberries and not bat-babies? Because that was pretty badass!"

"That was just me following your lead," I chortled at her attempt to sneak information from me.

* * *

 **SP POV - 20 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Okay raspberries, Mommy's gonna be right over there," I cooed, gesturing at the dining area of our apartment where Camilla Manoso, Tucker Kruger, Duncan Prince and Aeneas Vasiliou were seated. We'd gathered for our final meeting to determine who to select for the new w*ish franchise owners at my apartment due to Camilla's schedule being encroached upon by her sister's upcoming wedding. I'd already emailed them the resumes and my notes from interviews regarding the finalists. Now, we were just finishing up our discussion on my interviews in Las Vegas, having already discussed and decided on a final candidate in New York City, Miami and Beverly Hills. Unfortunately, our meeting was disrupted by the twins waking up from their nap a little fussy so I got them a little snack and set them up in their playpen in the living room while everyone else began discussing and comparing the merits of Lisa Houser and Sophia Wyatt. I dropped a quick kiss to each of their heads and left them to play with a pile of colorful, oversized blocks.

"Okay guys, where are we at?" I asked, sliding into my seat at one end of the table between Camilla and Aeneas.

"We've just been reading up on Ms. Houser," Aeneas replied, his dark gaze focused on the resume in his hands that he was scratching notes on.

"Her resume is very impressive," Duncan added absentmindedly while twirling a highlighter between his fingers.

Lisa Houser had an undergraduate degree in business and experience as a bartender, a host at the Bellagio and the manager of a Tiffany's. She looked great on paper and had just the right question for every question I asked her. Unfortunately, there was just something… off about her and her way too forced smile. Lisa was ambitious, which I appreciated, but it was with an underlying sense of I'm smiling at you, but that's only to distract you from my sneak attack.

"I like her too. Very polished," Tucker added thoughtfully. "Cam?" he asked, his eyes focused on his business partner.

"Ditto. But Steph, what about you. Your notes on her were a bit sparse compared to everyone else you put in the like pile," Camilla replied, tossing her hair as she turned to face me with an expectant look on her face.

"I… well, I liked her, but-" I began before Aeneas' scoff halted me.

"Try again doll. It obvious that you didn't like her. Why is she in the potentials pile?"

I strummed my fingers against the tabletop, contemplating how to answer the question without them thinking I was a crazy hippie who made life decisions based on vibes and auras. "Her resume is pretty perfect and her background check came up clean if a bit scant, but there was just something disingenuous o-or maybe sneaky that I picked up from her while we were talking. I just felt bad crossing her off the list over my spidey-sense tingling when on paper she's such a strong candidate."

"You had a _feeling_?" Tucker questioned slowly, dubiety written across his features.

"Mhmm. I think my Uncle mentioned your um spidey-sense. Apparently it made _quite_ the impression," Aeneas interjected, a dimpled smile lighting up his features.

"Hey! I thought _I_ was the one who left an impression on him, not my spidey-sense," I huffed, eliciting a warm chuckle from him.

"Okay, why don't we move on to Sophia Wyatt before we decide who we like best," Camilla offered diplomatically.

"Alright, let's see here. Sophia Wyatt, graduated with a B.A. in social work and a minor in marketing, volunteers heavily, worked at a downtown clothing boutique, and currently managing Safe Nest, a domestic violence shelter," Duncan summarized.

"And from your interview notes she was energetic, witty, a huge fan of the buy-one-donate-one initiative at w*ish," Aeneas read from my notes. "But her background is in social work. Why the switch now?"

"She said she liked helping the people she was working with but having her life flooded with the issues she faced everyday was exhaustive and draining. After about 12 years, she's getting a little jaded and burnt out. She thinks she'd be better suited to volunteering at a place like her shelter while her career was something she cared about but just not quite as heavy," I explained.

"Wow, 12 years at a domestic violence shelter. That is _definitely_ heavy," Camilla replied softly, looking over Sophia's resume again. "I like her."

"But is that enough to make a decision? And to turn down Lisa?" I queried, looking around the table.

"Well, Steph, this is your dream, your reputation you're trusting someone with. And a resume gives you someone's experience, but it doesn't give the measure of a person. Plus, Sophia's references couldn't stop gushing about her while Lisa's seem more perfunctory," Duncan reasoned.

"Well, my Uncle swears by Stephanie's gut or spidey-sense or whatever," he gestured in the air "so I vote Sophia."

"Same. She's a _great_ judge of character," Camilla weighed in, shooting me a wink.

"I'm with Cam, though I think you should make sure that you keep in close contact with her and the others as things progress so they know they can reach out to you or even each other, Allegra included, with any questions or ideas," Tucker added.

"So, Duncan? What do you think?" I asked, holding his gaze.

"Hmm," he mumbled, rubbing at his jaw, "initially I was leaning towards Lisa because her resume is so much stronger, but I've learned that personal references are much more than the resume and even the interview because people tend to get nervous or sometimes take a while to warm up."

"So Sophia it is!" I announced excitedly. "Well, I'll just give everyone I interviewed a call tomorrow and we can work on getting contracts signed within the next week and finally get started on getting the new storefronts up to snuff."

"Sounds good. Tell them congratulations from us and you might want to send out an official email to each of them with a little about where you want to see w*ish headed and introduce those of us already part of the w*ish family," Duncan suggested before he and Tucker said their goodbye's and headed out.

"That's a great idea. Especially since everyone is too far away and busy to meet in person right away," I replied, jotting it down on a post-it.

"Oh, and once all the contracts are in you should set up a weekly franchise owner meeting so they can check in with you and get to know each other," Aeneas added before dropping a kiss on my cheek and heading into the living room to play with the twins.

" _So_?" Camilla asked me after craning her neck to check that Aeneas was too busy rolling a ball around with my raspberries to eavesdrop.

" _So_ what?" I replied, with a confused expression.

" _So_ so many things, really. But first, did you have time to make the customized bridal shower gifts for Daniella and Olivia?"

"Mhmm," I replied, grabbing two large w*ish bags I'd stowed in the laundry room and handing them to her with a flourish. "As requested, two one-of-a-kind Stephanie Plum originals."

"Oh wow, Steph. These are amazing," she replied in awe, peeking into the bags and running her fingers over the beading and lace. "This will more than make up for the fact that I may have unintentionally provoked the bride-zillas."

"Anytime," I chortled, shaking my head and admiring how seamlessly Aeneas could go from charming businessman to babysitter, cajoling high-fives from the twins.

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the wedding?" Camilla asked, snapping my attention back to her. "I mean, my parents _love_ you for helping me get Mod Management up and running and they'd love to meet you, finally. You're practically an honorary Manoso!"

"Th-thanks," I stuttered, "but I'm pretty booked with the move coming up," I added, thankful for my legitimate excuse.

"Oh yeah! I totally forgot that was coming up. Have you seen the place since they did the painting and installed all the hardware and appliances you requested?" Camilla asked.

"I have stopped by a few times. I've never really owned a house and I can't seem to go more than a few days without at least driving by to check it out," I said, smiling at the memory of the last time I stopped by the house as they were installing carpet. The construction workers found my gleeful testing out of the carpet quirky and amusing.

"Well, I definitely want to see the new digs once you get it all set up," Camilla replied. " _So_ , that brings us to the next thing I wanted to talk to you about. What is going on _there_?" she queried, pointing her eyes at Aeneas who was currently tickling Theo as he tried to crawl away.

Honestly, I wasn't sure how to answer the question. Aeneas and I had been growing closer with every meeting, but it wasn't clear where we were headed, if anywhere. Knowing that answer would annoy Camilla, so I opted to simply shrug at her with a smirk on my face and enjoyed her huff in response.

* * *

A/N: Mrs. Tune was my actual piano teacher's name; I know the name is a little on the nose, but I guess reality works out that way sometimes.

Ranger becomes a more active character in the story starting with the next chapter! Hang in there and happy reading!

Oh and sorry this one was a little short and less edited.


	12. Chapter 9

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thank you for all of the favorites/follows/reviews and to those of you who've been reading along. I am sooo crazy excited to have _finally_ started the second part of the story (mostly because Ranger, obviously). I hope you like it and I promise there's more Ranger to come!

Also, I'd like to apologize in advance for the terrible English to Spanish translations… My high school Spanish skills have completely atrophied, and, well, google can only do so much.

And yay for Tricky Twenty-Two coming out! Guess what I'm doing this weekend? Yup, binge reading some Stephanie Plum.

* * *

 **Part II. "I WISH on a star that somewhere you are thinking of me too." - Selena, "Dreaming of You"**

 **Chapter 9**

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"And this is my beau, Luke Morrison!" Grandma Mazur announced from her position tucked snugly into his side. This morning, Grandma announced that she'd set up a post Mommy and Me lunch for me and the twins to finally meet Luke.

They actually made a really cute, geriatric couple, Luke's eyes mirroring the mischief in Grandma's. Luke was about seven inches taller than Grandma at 5'9" with close cropped white hair and a military background judging from his sharply creased khaki pants and rigid posture.

"Hi Luke, I'm Stephanie," I greeted cheerily, reaching out my hand to shake his weathered one, "and these two are Theo and Serafina," I added, ruffling their hair as they stared raptly at Luke, trying to figure out who this new person was.

"It's a pleasure to meet you dear, although I feel like I know you already after all of Edie's stories," Luke replied genially before kneeling to greet the twins.

"Alright, let's get the gummy bears settled into these highchairs! I'm starving!" Grandma exclaimed, scooping up Theo to settle him into the highchair between us while I did the same for Serafina. I snapped bibs on them with minimal fussing while Luke chivalrously helped Grandma settle into her seat.

Over a bruschetta appetizer I caught Grandma Mazur and Luke up on w*ish and plans to move into the new house in a few days and I got to know a little about Luke. He served in the Marines for a few years and opened his own mechanic shop. After a rather contentious divorce, he ended up moving to Vermont where he and one of his marine buddies grew their business into a handful of mechanic shops. A few years ago he retired from actively managing the mechanic shops and moved back to Trenton to be near his two sons, Luke Jr. and Charles, and his five grandchildren.

"So Grandma, how has the apartment hunt been going?" I asked as I cleaned up a smudge of squash mush that managed to escape Theo's mouth.

"Well, I've narrowed it down to a couple of places, but it just feels like such a huge decision!" Grandma explained. "And so much to consider. I mean, I really liked an apartment at Coral Gables because it was spacious and has a great pool, but my friend Henrietta's sister lives there and she's always trying to steal my men!" she explained, with an outraged expression. "And there is _no_ way I'm giving her a chance to dig her hooks into this one," she added, hooking her arm with Luke's with a surprisingly sappy smile.

"She's your Joyce Barnhardt!" I exclaimed, recalling the woman who's naked dalliances with my husband of five long months saved me from a bleak future as Mrs. Dickie Orr.

"Don't say that! Don't you even _think_ that!" Grandma replied, aghast at the comparison.

"Well, that's no good. Any other places on your radar?" I chortled at her reaction.

"There's also Horizons Apartments, but you know Madge Wilson lives there and she's apparently been sleeping with my friend Irma Patterson's husband. It all came out a few days ago and everyone at the Clip 'n Curl is in a tizzy," Grandma continued, waving her arms around.

"Wait, wasn't Irma having an affair with someone in Newark?" I asked, trying to catch up to the drama in Grandma's ever widening social circle while I re-fastened Serafina's bib. Even the unicorn galloping on a rainbow bib I let her pick out (or as much picking as babbling and pointing can imply) didn't sway her fussy tendencies.

"Irma's still seeing that fella, but she likes making time with her husband too. Besides, just 'cause she's cheating doesn't mean she wants to be cheated on. Although, I did try to explain to her that it was fair, considering."

"I think Rush Crossing seems like the best fit," Luke added, "it's newer and has a clubhouse for people to hang out and a lot of semi-organized activities because most of the residents are older and retired."

"That does sound nice. And it's in the Burg but not too close to mom, so you'll have some freedom," I added with a conspiratorial wink, dipping another piece of tortellini in pesto and popping it into my mouth.

"Oh, and the hot tub!" Grandma squealed with a roguish glint in her eyes, "I have some _plans_ for that hot tub."

After sneaking a peak at Luke who's blush was rising almost as quickly as mine, I decided to just focus on wiping the drab smears from my raspberries' faces and ignore Grandma Mazur who was very overtly making flirty, mushy eyes at Luke.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Oh my gosh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Mona Bradbury's exclaim shot through my cell phone speaker.

I was calling the people we'd selected yesterday to let them know they'd been chosen as w*ish franchise owners for our first phase of expansion. I'd already called Daniel Bellerose in New York City and Sophia Wyatt in Las Vegas and was now informing Mona Bradbury who was going to open a w*ish storefront on Rodeo Drive. Mona had traded in her reality television mogul husband for an MBA and was eager to start the next phase of her life. She had a wonderfully dry sense of humor, daring sense of style and tons of great ideas for w*ish.

"You're welcome and congratulations!" I replied, mirroring her excitement. "I just wanted to call and give you the good news. You'll get an email later on today with the contract and a proposed timeline for getting w*ish up and running in California."

"I can't wait, I have _so_ many ideas!" Mona replied.

"Awesome! I look forward to hearing them. Please try to get the contract signed, notarized and back to me by Monday so we can get started."

"I will. Absolutely!"

"Thank you. I know it's quick, but we've got a pretty tight schedule and that'll give us a week to get the location setup and staff hired for the opening," I explained.

"Okay. I've already put out some unofficial feelers for staff members, so I have a few people in mind. I was wondering if I could pick your brain about hiring people after the contract things are handled?" she asked, living up to my impression of her as someone who was rarely idle.

"Definitely. I was going to schedule a conference call on Monday between all five of you w*ish boutique owners and myself to go over setting up the store and to talk about things like hiring staff," I explained, the feverish excitement I felt at the forthcoming developments. "And with respect to hiring, I trust your judgment, but I would prefer to have the security company I used to work for run all of the background checks. They'll give you a major break on the cost and the benefit of their impressive experience."

"Background checks? I hadn't even thought of that…" Mona muttered to herself. "That sounds great. I am psyched to get started!"

I beamed at her attitude, "Well, we've got a pretty tight schedule, but I really think we can make it. Anyways, I'm emailing you the contract as we speak. Feel free to call if you have any questions or concerns."

"Okay. And thank you for your call. You made my week!" Mona replied before we said our goodbyes.

I shuffled back into the nursery to check up on the twins before calling Ariana Solares, our choice from the Miami candidates. She had a bit of a rough childhood but turned it around after her best friend was killed in a drunk driving accident. Her resume was less padded than the others', but she was a hard working and very smart. She'd put herself through college while working an assortment retail and hospitality positions and w*ish would be her first opportunity to actually manage something all her own.

"Hey raspberries! What are you up to?" I queried, kneeling down on to the carpet next to their playpen. I'd set them up with blocks, stuffed animals and a stacking cup game to keep them busy while I made the calls and began packing up for the move.

I received a chorus of "Mama, Mama, Mama" from both Serafina and Theo as they clamored for my attention in their adorable, matching, two-peas-in-a-pod onesies.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 18 NOV 2013 (18 Months Ago)**

Damn it, I thought to myself as I paced in front of Global National Bank in downtown Newark in my business finest. I'd officially exhausted _all_ avenues of financing for w*ish and had struck out spectacularly. What was I going to do? According to my calculations, I needed a business loan to match at least half of my current savings to get w*ish started. Ideally, I could get the bank to completely match my savings, but at this point I'd take anything I could get.

I was making my third pass past the double glass doors to the bank, my pitch portfolio clutched between my arm and my side as I furiously rubbed my temples when I collided into someone. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," I exclaimed, picking up my black, leather portfolio off of the gritty sidewalk and looking up at the person I'd inadvertently knocked into.

"Stephanie! How wonderful to see you," Alexander Ramos' gravelly voice filled the air as he reached down to help me up. He was wearing a navy pinstriped suit and flanked by two he-men wearing matching black suits stretched tightly over unnecessarily bulging muscles.

"Mr. Ramos, it's nice to see you too," I replied, leaning in to let him buss my cheek while straightening my slate grey pencil skirt and ruffled, ice-blue silk blouse. "How are things going with your sons? Hannibal and Homer?" I asked. We'd met when I was doing surveillance on his property for RangeMan. Alexander had used me as his getaway driver to escape his overbearing sons for some ouzo and a smoke at his local haunt.

"Call me Alexander, please. And my sons are well, probably better than they deserve," he replied, tsking and shaking his head disappointedly. "I'm just glad we were able to smooth things over with your boss after my idiot son tried to frame him for murder," Alexander replied, hooking my hand into his arm and leading me into the granite floored foyer of Global National Bank. "Enough about me, how are you? You haven't been to Deal lately and I have missed our occasional drink despite you refusing my generous marriage proposal," he joked jovially.

"I'm mostly the same, except I recently moved to Newark and am trying to get a little business started. That's actually why I'm here today, I had a meeting with the bank," I replied, ignoring the prickly feeling on my arms at being back in the bank that most recently rejected me as too risky an investment.

"Well, I can't wait to see what it is. I know you will be wonderful at whatever you choose to do," Alexander commented, though his expression of confidence and support turned to one of curiosity as he took in my dispirited expression. "What is it, krotída mou (Greek: my firecracker)?"

"Oh nothing. It's just the whole new business owner thing is a little trickier than I expected. But it'll be worth it," I said with a vehement, hair tousling nod, as much to reassure myself as Alexander.

"There is no need to hide anything from me, especially when I could help. Now, what is wrong?" Alexander asked, supportively yet sternly, his whiskey gaze fixed sharply on my eyes.

I could feel my eyes glisten, but I blinked away the tears that were oddly quick to arrive over the past few weeks. Until now, no one had really pried too deeply into how my progress on w*ish was going. They just assumed I was doing well. And the designing part was, without a doubt. I had several sketch books filled with designs for a myriad of lines that I was beyond excited for the women of New Jersey to see. The financing portion of things was proving to be particularly difficult and an ever growing hurdle I couldn't seem to find a way past. There was something about being turned away by the eighth bank that was making me feel like a resounding failure. "I've just been having a little trouble getting a business loan," I explained before continuing on quickly, "I have quite a bit in savings, but it's not enough if I want to do it right. The financing is the only thing that's really holding me up."

"I see. It is ridiculous how these banks work, _no_? They irresponsibly help people buy homes they cannot afford and destroy the real estate market because they are greedy and now they get government bailout money that you and I pay for yet they tell us that _we_ are a bad investment," he scoffed before adding "And they call _me_ a criminal. Malakíes (Greek: Bullshit)" while patting me on the arm.

"Thanks, and sorry. I'm just getting a little frustrated," I replied.

"Not to worry. You are brilliant, I knew the moment I met you. Don't let what these stupid bankers say get to you, they know nothing," he said matter-of-factly, brushing off my worry and inspiring me to consider doing the same. "Now, tell me what you need, I will write you a check, yes?" he said with surprising nonchalance, as if he didn't just offer to solve all of my problems with the casualness of handing me a cup of coffee. He pulled his checkbook and a fancy silver pen from his suit pocket, poised to fill it out.

"Oh no! No, Mr. Ram-Alexander, I replied hastily, grabbing his wrist to stop him. "I wasn't looking for a handout or trying to hint or make you feel obligated-"

"No one is feeling obligated, dear. Besides, I believe in you and your dream, which is?"

"Oh, I'm starting a lingerie boutique called w*ish. I've already got most of the designs ready and a few locations and manufacturers scouted out. Once I convince one of these banks to bet one me, I'll be up and running in no time!" I gushed.

"Lingerie, now that is an intriguing, solid investment," he said, with a wide smile. "You know, I think the bank's short-sightedness could very well be my fortune."

"And how is that?" I queried, unsure as to where this conversation was taking us.

"It just so happens that I know of a wonderful investment firm, Vasiliou Ventures, which would be very interested in you and your w*ish," he offered excitedly, with a wide, genuine smile.

"Really?" I questioned, unable to keep the optimism from my voice. "I… wow, I would really appreciate the opportunity to at least make my pitch."

"Ah. There's krotída mou (Greek: my firecracker) and the… how you say? Gumption? Yes, gumption that makes you, _you_. So few women have that nowadays," he added, shaking his head in disappointment. Personally, I think if you only spend time with women who's greatest ambition is to fulfill their potential as trophy wives, you can't really complain about lack of gumption… or reading skills for that matter. "Now, I must be going, but I will have the secretary at Vasiliou Ventures call you to set up a meeting," he explained before giving me a hug, bussing my cheek and heading off to his meeting, leaving me stunned and slack-jawed. And hopeful. Very, very hopeful.

* * *

 **Camilla Manoso POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"To the happy couple!" I said, raising my bellini to toast Daniella and Olivia along with their close friends and the rest of the women in family. We were having a little brunch to start of our Bridal Shower day before heading out for some facials and massages at Indulgence Day Spa, dinner, and dancing. I'd planned the day's events with my sisters and sister-in-law to be low key and relaxing per the brides' wishes, and neither wanted a wild 'last' night out.

"So," my eldest sister Celia said as everyone started munching on the tapas style brunch items, "I was thinking we could do presents while we eat, because we're running a little behind."

"Hey, we needed our beauty sleep!" Daniella huffed, jokingly. A wide smile gracing her caramel features and eyes lit up in joy. Yesterday, I'd finally convinced her to stop trying to micromanage things and just enjoy their wedding. My plea was as much for her benefit as it was for my sanity. I couldn't handle any more bridezilla-ness from either of them. I was in marketing and _not_ wedding planning for a reason.

"Please, you two look amazing. You're practically glowing!" Maya, Olivia's friend from Boston, said. She worked at SafeLink, a domestic violence hotline that collaborated heavily with Reach, the non-profit organization Olivia worked at to lobby for and obtain financing for several domestic violence and homeless shelters in Boston.

"She's right, you both look beautiful," my mom added, brimming with excitement and once again on the edge of tears. She usually ended up teary for the entire length of wedding festivities if my sisters' and brother's weddings were anything to go by. She was seated next to Abuela Rosa (Spanish: Grandma Rosa), my paternal grandmother, both sharing a quiet conversation while occasionally chiming into ours.

"I believe I heard something about presents," Sofia Santos said as she walked in and plopped into the seat next to me, toting two plum and gold w*ish bags. She exuberantly handed a bags to each Daniella and Olivia after checking to see which was which. "Me first!"

"Okay!" Olivia replied, gleefully accepting the gift bag.

"Thanks Sofia, but you didn't need to get us anything," Daniella added, tossing the gold tissue paper from the bag onto the floor and pulling out a flirty satin and lace slip from w*ish's soon to be retired glam*ish line. "Wow, this is beautiful," she murmured, running her fingers over the fine lace details, "but way too much. You're a student, you shouldn't be spending money on me like this!" she added.

"These are beautiful, Sofia," Olivia added, holding up her red and purple lingerie set for everyone to admire, "but Dani's right, it's too much. We're just glad you could join us to get pampered for the day."

"Come on guys, I wanted to!" Sofia replied, tossing her dark hair sassily over her shoulder and snatching up a bellini from the tray in the center of the table, "besides, Steph gave me a mega employee discount," she shrugged and huffed when my mom took the drink from her hands with a chastising look. "Tia (Spanish: Aunt)?"

"You're only twenty, sobrina (Spanish: niece)," my mother replied after a lengthy, mocking sip of what was Sofia's drink.

"If I had a hook up like that, I'd be buying stuff for me and my friends all the time," Mia, my older brother Raphael's wife said, with a noticeable edge. She tended to be selfish, always trying to find the angle to get something for herself, and a little prickly towards those who didn't do so on her behalf. Sofia just shrugged off Mia's comment, unwilling to offer to take advantage of Stephanie. After a few months of knowing Mia, we'd all adopted the same response to her particular brand of passive aggressive comments.

"Whoa, you work for w*ish, the lingerie company?" Sandra, Olivia's friend from college, queried. "I just read an article on w*ish in Vogue. The designer is very impressive."

"Steph's great," I replied, "I actually do marketing for w*ish." I grabbed my two gift bags which were overflowing with shimmery tissue paper from where I'd stowed them under the table. "Speaking of w*ish, I had Steph make some one-of-a kind pieces for you two," I explained.

"Oh my, wow!" Daniella said, stunned as she took in her gift. Stephanie'd designed her a merry widow in a soft ivory to match her wedding gown with pearl and crystal details. "Thank you, Cam, this is _incredible_. You have to thank Stephanie for me!" she said, placing the lingerie delicately back into the bag before leaning across the table to give me a quick hug as Olivia opened the gift I'd gotten her, excited anticipation on her face.

"This is _gorgeous_!" Olivia exclaimed, pulling everyone's attention as she held up the blush pink silk strapless bustier and matching panties and robe with lace details and flirty ties. "Camilla, this is… thank you. It matches my gown _perfectly_ ," she said, a little catch in her throat as she handed the lingerie to Daniella and pulled me in for a hug.

Out of all of us siblings, I had the closest relationship with Olivia because I was the most eager to welcome her into the family when they first became serious. It was probably because I wasn't as surprised with Daniella's choice of a girlfriend over a boyfriend. Everyone else needed a little time to acclimate themselves. It also helped that I went up to Boston a few times a year for my old job, so I got to visit them and really get to know Olivia outside of the chaos of family gatherings and holidays.

"Quo hermosa. Si solo tuviera esta cuando yo era mas joven… (Spanish: How beautiful. If only I had this when I was younger…)" Grandma Rosa said wistfully as she strummed her fingers lightly along the delicate lace and silk fabric, unaware of my sisters and I blushing and my mom's soft hum of agreement.

"So, you said Stephanie made these special for you?" my mom asked, her eyes widening at my nod as she turned to translate it for my grandmother who was also surprised at Stephanie's generosity.

"Hey, you invited her, _right_? I know she wasn't on the official list, but she's more than welcome and we'd love to finally officially meet her," Celia asked as she handed Daniella and Olivia a couple festively wrapped gift boxes.

"Yeah, but she's busy this weekend. I really wanted her to come to meet Carlos. I could _totally_ see them hitting it off!" I shared my matchmaking plan. I'd thought Stephanie and my brother Carlos would be great together for a while now, but he hadn't been up from Miami in forever so I hadn't gotten the chance to put my plan into motion. It also didn't help that my cousin and Carlos' business partner cachinnated violently to the point of tears when I told him my plan and flat out _refused_ to help.

"Steph's got the twins though. I don't know if she'd give Carlos the time of day because he doesn't come off as… family friendly," Sofia shrugged as she subtly took a sip of the bellini Grandma Rosa snuck her with a sly smirk.

"Really? Maybe then he would move back to New Jersey," mom said hopefully, the wedding bells in her eyes doubling.

"Psh," my older sister, Maricella, snorted. Maricella was a full-time housewife who occasionally worked a temp job when things got tight. She tended to be a little bit of a bossy know-it-all who enjoyed criticizing others while ignoring her own shortcomings. Basically she was the older sister that ratted you out for sneaking out or having a boy in your room. As the baby of the family, I took my duty to rebel rather seriously and did some irreparable damage to my relationship with Maricella that she was too busy to remedy now. "Carlos isn't capable of being in a long-term relationship, much less one that involves children," she added critically, rolling her amber eyes as Mia chortled in agreement.

Thwap. Grandma Rosa's slapped her hand sharply down on the cream tablecloth with an affronted expression on her face that she leveled at Maricella, Mia and then my mom, causing silence to blanket our previously boisterous table. "La gente en cases de cristal no debería arrojar piedras. Ahora volvamos a nuestra celebración. (Spanish: People in glass houses should not throw stones. Now, let us get back to our celebration.)"

A low hum of conversation resumed as Celia shoved another set of gifts at Daniella and Olivia attempting to alleviate the mood once again.

"Creo que alguien con tanta creatividad intrigante sería perfecto para Carlos (Spanish: I think someone with such intriguing creativity would be perfect for Carlos)," Grandma Rosa whispered to me with a conspiratorial wink before cooing over the a sheer, red teddy Olivia had been gifted.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"I keep on fallin' in and out of love with you," I crooned along to Alicia Key's _Fallin',_ as I danced with Serafina in my arms from the oak changing table to her daisy covered, rolling baby walker. I settled her in and watched her shuffle her feet to roll towards Theo who was inspecting the kitchen area, the only room aside from the nursery that didn't have boxes stacked in it.

I had packed up my bedroom and the living room and was moving onto the kitchen. I taped up the bottom of another cardboard box and placed it on the kitchen counter. I stepped between Theo and Serafina who were shuffling around in their baby walkers, babbling and giggling with each other, completely unconcerned with the fact that in a few short days, we'd be moving from the apartment into our new house. Leaving our first home, I thought with a pang of nostalgia. This apartment had been a safe haven for myself when I needed it most.

More importantly, it was where I learned how to be a mom.

I shook my head to clear away the nostalgia and get back on task. I needed to get everything boxed because the Merry Men would be here in three days to move everything to the house. I grabbed a stack of square, white plates with blue swirls, placed them in bubble wrap sleeves and began stacking them into the box. I managed to dance my way through packing the plates and bowls before getting sidetracked by a tugging on my yoga pants and a whiny "Mama, Mama," from below.

I looked down to see Theo pouting and pinching his fingers carefully to keep a hold on the stretchy, soft material. I knelt down next to him and grabbed his tiny, pudgy hand in my own. "What wrong Theo?" I cooed. His response was to bang his RangeMan sippy cup, courtesy of Ella, against the edge of his baby walker. "I guess it's time for a snack, huh?" I replied, freeing his cup from his surprisingly strong grip and scooping Serafina's up as well. I rinsed and filled them about halfway with water and returned them to my raspberries along with a handful of cheerios each which earned me excited warbles as they began their snack. Theo started munching after first upturning his bowl to pour the cheerios all over the tray part of his walker while Serafina opted to poke at the cheerios one at a time, hooking them carefully around her tiny fingers and then daintily placing them in her mouth. I couldn't _wait_ to introduce her to Bugles.

I constructed another box and started wrapping my glasses and mugs in tissue paper while humming along to the awesomeness that is Adele, smiling when I caught Serafina humming disjointedly along as well. She got it. Well, _obviously_ she got it, she was brilliant, I thought smugly as I reached to the back of the cupboard for the reject mugs that never really made it into circulation. And the second I saw it, I knew why. My stomach knotted tightly with the memories trapped in that stupid, halloween mug. When I first started at RangeMan, I convinced Ella to help me spread some halloween cheer with little gifts for the guys. After that, Ella and I teamed up to use all major holidays as excuses to subvert the strict RangeMan dietary restrictions. The month I moved to Newark, I got mugs made with a picture of a FTA ghost in handcuffs and "Who you gonna call? RangeMan!" on them that Ella filled with baked, chocolatey yumminess.

It was the last time I'd spearheaded an effort to spread any holiday spirit around RangeMan.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 16 OCT 2013 (19 Months Ago)**

"RangeMan, Stephanie Plum speaking," I answered my desk phone mechanically as I finished going over the proposal contract for our next order of body armor from Stealth, Inc.

"Hey Bombshell," Ramon replied, he was working the lobby desk today. "We just got a delivery for you. It's been scanned and it's on it's way up."

"Thanks Ramon!" I answered, excited that my order of customized mugs intended to spread some halloween happy around RangeMan had finally arrived and thankful to finally have something to look forward to. I'd been having a pretty crappy week so far and it was _only_ Wednesday. I'd been warned about dating someone I worked with, worked for, and despite everything, I'd gone ahead with it. I was convinced that the risks didn't matter because I'd been certain we would last. I had faith in us. Too bad I was alone.

"Anytime Bombshell. So, does this have something to do with this year's Halloween treat?" he queried, clearly trying to finagle some inside information. The guys tended to bet on everything, and the small halloween token Ella and I planned would garner him a pretty pot.

"You'll just have to wait," I sing-songed, rolling side to side in my seat.

"If I were you, I'd meet the box at the elevator. Lester offered to bring it to you and I don't think he's above sneaking a peek!" Ramon warned me before hanging up.

I walked down the hallway, past the glass encased control room filled with monitors and the War Room, the large conference room that was currently being occupied by a team preparing for a government mission. A team that was part RangeMan and part government employees who were holed up in there, pouring over topographical maps or practicing throwing ninja stars or learning code phrases or whatever it is that Rambo types do to prep for saving the world. All I knew was that it didn't involve honing their verbal communications skills or explaining their cryptic, unilateral decisions. I assume such things fell behind the curtain of need to know.

Lester Santos had taken me aside and explained what was going on when I saw the non-RangeMan team members saunter in bright and early Monday morning. Unfortunately, he invoked need to know after sharing that the mission would require Ranger Manoso and Bobby Brown, two of the four members of RangeMan's core team and owners, along with three government employees, none of whom I'd had the pleasure of officially meeting. I did ask Lester if he knew anything about the one female member of the team who seemed to think that a low-cut tank top and booty shorts were business casual. I get that she kicks ass or whatever, but it's only socially acceptable to dress like Lara Croft on halloween. Unless you're actually doing some tomb raiding, I suppose. Lester's response had been to nod at her attire and shrug, as if to say what do you think she's like. Lester may not be the best with sugar coating things, but at least I can trust him to always tell me the truth.

"Well hello Beautiful," Lester greeted me with his signature, panty dropping smirk when the elevator opened. He carried a large box out of the elevator and nudged me with his shoulder as he walked me and the box back to my desk.

"So, did you peek?" I asked, looking up into his green eyes.

"Me? Beautiful, you wound me!" he exclaimed with a wink. I shrugged in response after confirming that the tape on the box seemed intact.

We'd made it halfway to our destination when the door to the War Room opened for what seemed like the first time in three days. A young, latin guy with a surfer's build sauntered out, ruffling his shaggy hair and smiling brightly with a cute dimple when he saw Lester. "Santos," he greeted with a brusque head nod.

"Hey Axel, how've you been?" Lester replied, rolling his eyes and shaking his head when he caught his friend checking me out.

"Excited to get back out there. I hate all this prep crap," he grumbled. "So, who's your friend," he asked pointedly.

"Beautiful, this is Axel Colon, we've taught him everything he knows," Lester introduced, ignoring Axel's amused snort. "Axel, this is Stephanie Plum, Trenton's very own Bombshell Bounty Hunter."

"Seriously Les, that's my introduction? Uncool." I groused, nudging him with my shoulder before shaking Axel's outstretched, calloused hand.

"So, do you know where a guy can get some decent pizza around here?" he asked, attempting to disarm me with his charming smile.

"Seriously, kid? _That's_ what you're going with?" Lester chortled. "Weak."

"What? The hella healthy RangeMan diet is becoming a little much," Axel defended his query.

"Shorty's has decent pizza and cheap beer," Lester offered. "Beautiful?" he added, nodding his head further down the hall towards my desk.

"It was nice m-meeting you," I said, intending to follow Lester back to my desk when two more of the mission team came out of the War Room. One of my bosses entered the hallway and leaned casually against the wall, wearing his customary head-to-toe black RangeMan gear which managed to accentuate his muscles to perfection. Well that and an accessory he didn't normally have: some chic draped all over him. There was something I instantly didn't like about her. Her smile was a bit too wide, her laugh a little too chipper and her hands a _lot_ too all over my boyfriend's… ex-boyfriend's adonis caliber torso. I was snapped from my staring my Lester nudging his knee against my pencil skirt clad thigh. "I suggest you try Pino's though, it you want good pizza," I added to Axel before forcing a smile and rigidly walking down the suddenly claustrophobic hallway.

"I didn't know you hired women at RangeMan," I heard the Tomb Raider wannabe huff in my periphery, appreciative of Lester's bulk shielding me from the flirty couple. Well, I _was_ thankful until Lester halted, twisted around to shove my box into Axel's chest and hooked his arm around my shoulders, pulling me snuggly into his side. I looked up at Lester trying to glean what the hell he was doing as he pivoted me forcibly to face her, my pointy toed stilettos scuffing noisily against the black, glinting tiles.

"Hi, I'm Stephanie," I introduced myself after a few awkward moments of silence, reaching out my hand reluctantly to shake hers.

"Diamond Suarez," she replied, leaning against the muscle bound chest she was just groping, previously known as _my_ muscle bound chest to grope.

Diamond! _Diamond?_ Her name was Diamond, _naturally_. Unfortunately, I was being bombarded by too many stimuli and was no longer able to keep my inner monologue, well, inner. "I don't care about you're stripper- I mean stage name," I managed to catch myself, although the damage was done judging by the evil eye she was leveling at me. "What's you're real name?" My comment was met with a chortles covered by snorts from Lester and Axel and outrage from Diamond.

"That _is_ my real name, bi- Stephanie" she bit out, managing to catch herself before the expletive fully left her trollop red lips, and fisting her hands where they rested against her sides.

"My mistake. Your parents must be _thrilled_ with how you turned out, given that they set the bar low enough for you to trip over," I _sort of_ apologized with an innocent, doe-eyed look and shrug.

"I think you had it right the first time, Beautiful. I've heard some stories about her preferred method of gathering intel and I think her parent's were pretty much dead on with the name," Lester whispered to me but made sure his voice carried enough to be heard by everyone in our vicinity.

"Actually, I've known a few strippers and escorts, and I'd say they're a step up, if the stories are true," Tank's gruff voice chimed in from behind me. "Hey Little Girl, is that for our halloween surprise?" Tank asked me, nodding his calvous dome at the box Axel was mutely carrying, his mouth slightly agape as he enjoyed the volley of barbs.

"Yup," I replied, popping the p and shooting Tank a grateful smile for shifting the conversation and my focus away from Diamond and her lack of adherence to personal space protocol. "And I promise to make sure none of Ella's treats have coconut in them," I assured him with a wink. After close to a year at RangeMan, I'd finally learned what Tank's candy kryptonite was when he embarked on a ten minute rant about never fully being done chewing coconut after he accidentally ate some.

"Axel, would you help Beautiful get that box back to her desk. She'll fill you in on the merits of Pino's dessert on the way," Lester added with a devious smirk and challengingly raised eyebrow aimed at my ex. "How was it you described that tiramisu?" he asked me with feigned innocence, still not averting his gaze from his colleague and my boss.

I smiled at Axel's surprised expression at having learned that Tank had an opinion about coconut and knowing that something was going on beyond the obvious conversation we were having before turning my face towards Lester who was still looking straight ahead. "I… um," I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the warm blush infusing my features and attempting to pull away from Lester's side. Unfortunately, Lester was intent on reminding my ex-boyfriend of how I described their dessert and driving home the fact that I would be discussing this with the handsome, dimpled Axel Colon. "Orgasmic, I called it orgasmic," I huffed before rolling my eyes, pivoting sharply on the edge of my stiletto, and sauntering back to my desk.

* * *

 **Lester Santos POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Shit," I grumbled, scrubbing a hand roughly down my face as I realized I had no excuses left to hide behind to keep from making the phone call I'd been dreading having to make all day. I leaned back in my leather office chair and dialed my phone, waiting as the ringing droned on in my ear, not sure if I wanted her to answer and just be done with delivering the news or if it would be better to get her voicemail and put it off some more. I never did get to finish deciding which was the lesser evil because Stephanie's cheery yet slightly out of breath voice filled my ear.

"Hey Lester! How's it going?"

"Eh, same ol'. Why are you out of breath?" I asked.

"Oh, I was just trying to get to my phone. It fell behind a few of the boxes in my bedroom," she replied.

"So, you all ready for the big move?" I asked, "because we're gonna be there bright and early Sunday morning to help you get moved in."

"Getting there. Right now it's in the in-between stage where there are boxes and piles of stuff everywhere so it looks like everything I've purchased over the past like year and a half exploded everywhere," she explained with what I was certain were frantic hand gestures. "On the upside, the raspberries think it's fun and exciting, like their home's been turned into a giant maze."

"Man, that does sound pretty awesome. I would've _loved_ that as a kid!"

"Please. I know you wish you could've spent the day playing with Serafina and Theo in our apartment maze rather than schmoozing clients and doing paperwork!" Stephanie teased. "So, what's going on with you? Are you excited for the wedding?"

"Yeah-wait, you know about Daniella and Olivia's wedding?" I asked, thrown off that she was broaching a topic adjacent to the one I needed to address.

"Seriously, Les? Between your sister, cousin and girlfriend, I'm probably more aware of the wedding itinerary than you are," she chortled. "Oh, and I'm supposed to _subtly_ ask you what color tie you're wearing because apparently you've turned Calista into one of those we- _must_ -match girlfriends," she added dryly.

"Oh, I hadn't really put much thought into it 'cause I'm a guy and well, not to boast, but I look amazing in anything and _especially_ in nothing," I said in a teasingly lascivious tone. "You're the fashionista though, any thoughts?"

"Oh, um… I'd go with that dark charcoal suit you wore to the gala we went to with a light gray shirt and a colored tie. What colors do you have?" she asked after a little initial hesitation, undoubtedly picking up on the fact that I was stalling by asking for fashion advice.

"Hmmm. I have some in black, gray, blue and green," I replied absentmindedly, trying to figure out how to segue our conversation smoothly to the news I needed to impart.

"Green. A light, minty green," she replied smugly. " _Trust me_ , I know the dress Calista'll wear to match that tie and… you're welcome."

"Thanks… I guess." I replied before just attacking the topic head on after a few moments of awkward, stuffy silence. "Listen Stephanie, I uh… have something to tell you."

" _Stephanie_ huh? Must be serious if you're busting out my full name," she replied with a forced, dry scoff.

"Ste-Beautiful, it's not bad news, not really, just something I wanted to give you a heads up about. Okay?" I said cautiously, strumming my fingers along the cool, dark glass surface of my desk.

"Okay Les, hit me with it," Stephanie replied, resignedly.

"He's coming back… for the wedding. He's getting in tomorrow and he'll be here till Sunday." After a few moments, I decided to fill the deafening silence, "I just found out today. Tank and I have and will encourage him to reach out to you, but you don't have to talk to him if you don't want to."

"I-I… damn it," Stephanie paused to clear her throat, "thank you for telling me. I hope I get a chance to finally tell him about… our raspberries, but I don't want either of you to force him to talk to me. It should be his choice to open up his life to me, even if it is j-just to catch up and for nothing m-more," she added slowly, policing her every word.

"Okay Steph. And remember, we're here for you, whatever you need," I barely managed to reply before she claimed Theo was getting fussy and hung up without so much as a good-bye.

This bullshit had gone on for far too long, I thought. I couldn't believe that one of the most honorable and courageous men I'd ever known was too chickenshit to get in touch with the woman I know he still cares for and ask for her forgiveness and friendship once more, if not for another chance. And I _really_ couldn't believe that despite several of us, Stephanie included, encouraging him to talk to her, he steadfastly refused to man up.

I levered my self wearily from my seat and lumbered towards the office adjacent to mine. I knocked sharply once before leaning in, pulling Tank's gaze from the dossier he was reading. "You tell her?" he asked gruffly followed by "beer or whiskey?" when he registered my swift nod.

"Both. And I'm calling his ass to the mats."

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Are you _sure_ you can't stay any longer? I really wanted to take a little trip into the city to show you my office!" Camilla whined, hoping her disappointed tone would convince me change my travel plans. "We never get to hang out anymore and I've haven't even been able to fill you in on how I got Mod Management started," she huffed petulantly.

I'd decided when I left New Jersey that I was only going to return when I absolutely couldn't get out of it. Unfortunately for me, all of the women in my family had spent the past several weeks convincing me that it would be unacceptable to skip any portion of my sister's wedding, including the rehearsal dinner which I would be arriving just in time for. "I have to leave Sunday, I have work," I replied with what I hoped was finality as I finished going through some expense reports for a recent bust.

"Ugh, _fine_ " she sighed, defeated. "Oh, I called dibs on picking you up at the airport," she announced smugly, adding "I already told Lester," when I attempted to explain that I'd made arrangements.

"See, we do have time to catch up. There's no need for a trip to New York City," I countered.

"I guess. And you'll finally meet my friend and _business_ partner, Tucker! He's my plus one for the wedding," she chattered at an impressively rapid pace, a habit that telegraphed her excitement.

I'd heard her mention _Tucker_ since college, but I'd never had the time or inclination to meet him. Apparently that was in the past because he seemed to be garnering a starring role in my baby sister's life. "Tucker?" I replied with a menacing calm I'd perfected years ago.

"Yeah, you know, my friend Tucker. Anyways, I'm really excited for you to meet and you _better_ not scare him, okay?" she demanded.

"I don't like to make promises I can't keep," I replied, signing off on the report and stacking it with the others at the edge of my black metal, minimalist desk. "So?"

" _So_ what?" she sassed back over the sound of motors revving and wind whipping in the background.

"Camilla," I bit out brusquely.

"No Carlos, there's nothing going on. _Yet_ ," she relented huffily. "So, you excited to be back and see everyone again?"

Her question shone a spotlight on the only real concern I had with visiting New Jersey. I'd left Trenton abruptly after my last mission and being the stubborn ass that I am, refused to heed any of my honorary brothers' advice that would've softened the news of my departure. But despite their disappointment, I knew my friends harbored a combination of respect and fear that would restrain them from forcing me to confront anyone I didn't intend to on my trip up north. "I was there seven months ago," I pointed out as I rolled some of the tenseness out of my shoulders and rested my head against my black, leather seat.

"Yeah, well, that was _before_ the wedding craziness took hold. Dad's been getting more and more vocal about his disapproval of Daniella marrying a woman, Mom's freaking out about the seating arrangement because apparently _Lester_ slept with Mr. Hernandez's daughter and can't be anywhere within 50 feet of him, I'm saddled with trying to cajole the caterer into adding a vegan option, and Mia's being a bitch about not being a bridesmaid," she ranted in one overdrawn breath. "Oh and Eva picked out a pink flower girl dress which doesn't really go with the blue and silver theme, but she's five and _adorable_ and her moms are getting married, so who cares, _right_?" she demanded, her voice acquiring a manic hysteria by the end of her thought.

"Sure," I responded tentatively, resigned to the fact that _any_ answer would be wrong.

"Well, now Mari's daughters, who are in high school incase you forgot because _clearly_ they have, demand to pick their own dress colors and Mari refuses to talk to them so _that's_ a whole thing now. Why can't Mari be a cool mom like Celia?" Camilla groused.

"Sorry. Just remember, the matrimonial circus will be over in a few days," I offered, thankful she couldn't see my subtle smirk at her suffering.

"Yeah. And since I've decided I'm _definitely_ going to elope, we're done planning weddings until Sofia decides to tie the knot."

"I wholly support your plan, but this guy sure as hell better ask me for permission before whisks you away to be married by an Elvis impersonator," I demanded, a little steel coming through in my tenor at the thought of my baby sister getting married. "And you don't even _think_ about Sofia getting married around Lester," I warned, knowing that his brotherly overprotectiveness exceeded even my own.

"Mhmm… I've got to get back to the Bridal Shower festivities. I've been gone too long and despite the fact that they're all pretty heavily buzzed, mom and abuela (Spanish: grandma) included, they'll eventually notice that one of their two designated drivers is missing."

"Have fun, and thanks for the offer of a ride, but I can just have-"

"Nope, _not_ gonna happen. I'll see you tomorrow!" she said with an amused lilt, a cacophony of giggling and shrieking marking her return to the fun I'd be forced to endure soon.

I blew out a slow, deep breath, scratching at the scruff of my overgrown stubble, finally relenting to the inevitable fact that in a few, short hours, I'd be back to breathing the muggy, smog infused air of New Jersey. Back home, the thought came to me unbidden, jarring me with its veracity and leaving me wondering if maybe it was time. Time to confront my past failings and make amends.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 31 OCT 2014 (7 Months Ago)**

"Thanks," I murmured to the waitress who refilled my mug with green tea, never averting my gaze from the luxury apartment building across the street from the cafe I'd been sitting in for most of the afternoon. Lurking really. Apparently I was _that_ guy, I thought, scoffing at myself.

After finally returning from the seemingly never ending mission from hell, I spent the last seven weeks being debriefed and recuperating from a nasty knife wound and mild dehydration. I'd made some hard choices before I left, to keep my focus sharp and make sure my team and I came home safe. Unfortunately, I was slammed with regret every time we hit a little lull in action while I was in the wind. Apparently, being officially unattached didn't mean I was _truly_ unattached. And it definitely didn't stop the occasional dream of the bliss I'd so callously thrown away.

So here I sat, contemplating my next move. The truly pathetic thing was that if I could _just_ man up, I knew I had a chance, despite everything. I _knew_ her, I knew her heart and I was confident that given some explanation, honesty and time, she would welcome me back into her life. But did I _deserve_ it? Did I deserve her friendship? Her _love_?

No, the thought reverberated around my mind, like an ominous, encroaching abyss, sentencing me to the gloomy existence I'd forced upon myself. I blinked the thought away and continued my vigil on her apartment. The apartment she moved to after I ended things. The one that was devoid of any memories of me, of _us_. Her fresh start.

I was staring raptly, waffling my gaze between her living room and dining room windows. I'd stolen a few glimpses of her earlier, walking around with a smile on her face bright enough to lighten even my heart a little. After the next time I see her, I'll man up, cross the street, knock on her door and plead for forgiveness, I promised myself just as she stepped back into my view. She was dressed up as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz in a sky blue dress with white, puffy cap sleeves and her chestnut tresses molded into soft curls and parted into low pigtails and what I imagined were sinful, red heels. She had a thing for heels that I wholly approved of. It had been her way of forcing some color into her RangeMan approved attire.

I let my mind wander for an indulgent moment, wondering how she would've gone about attempting to cajole me into participating in her Halloween mania. Would she have pouted at me or flirted with me to to convince me to dress up and join her. The first year she worked at RangeMan, she'd used flattery to persuade me to accompany her to a haunted house, sizing me up and pinching my bicep before declaring me suitable to protect her from vampires and zombies. After that year, she always planned something for us to do together to celebrate Halloween, as friends. I was snapped from my reminiscing when I recalled last Halloween, the one we should've spent together, as a couple.

I shook off her hurt, betrayed expression that haunted the dark recesses of my mind and focused on the present. I watched her adjust the tiny blue bows in her hair while using the window as a makeshift mirror, her nose crinkled slightly in concentration. She had finished and turned around to walk further into her apartment when she halted abruptly, her hand snapping to cup the back of her neck. She pivoted rapidly, her hair streaming through the air and she walked back to the window, pressing her other hand against the glass as her gaze bounced around, searching. She always knew when I was near. She could sense me. We could sense each other. She'd once described it to me as a tingly feeling that ran up her spine and settled at the base of her neck.

I smiled softly, awed that our bond persevered despite the hurt and distance and bullshit as I took in her hopeful expression. Until it turned angry, her hand turning into a fist as she shook her head as if to shake herself free of the tingle, to shake herself free of _me_.

Lester and Tank wouldn't give me many details, but they did imply she was doing well. She'd obviously managed to move forward and carve out a new life for herself. And she was happy. From the past several hours of stalking her, it was obvious that she'd found some happiness, and it wasn't right of me to take it away after I'd already taken _so_ much.

I heaved myself out of the rickety, coffee shop seat, my exit punctuated by the kitschy bell hooked to the door. I took one last wistful look up at her apartment, "goodbye Babe," I whispered, breathing the crisp, fall air in deeply and taking pleasure in the ache from my recently healed ribs as just penance. If nothing else, this afternoon illuminated the right path for me. I was going through with the transfer to run RangeMan Miami.

* * *

A/N: I know that the timeframe between Stephanie picking the w*ish boutique owners and the new locations actually opening is a bit tight. I ended up changing a few things from my original timeline and for the rest to fit, that bit is just gonna have to be a little rushed.


	13. Chapter 10: Part 1

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thank you for all of your favorites, reviews and for reading along. I hope you enjoy it!

Happy Thanksgiving!

* * *

 **Part II. "I WISH on a star that somewhere you are thinking of me too." - Selena, "Dreaming of You"**

 **Chapter 10 Part I**

 **Camilla Manoso POV - 22 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Cam, do you _have_ to go?" Daniella whispered nervously at me, sneaking a glance at our dad who was having a harsh conversation with my mother that involved increasingly frantic hand gestures and what looked like tears in my mother's eyes. I couldn't _wait_ for this wedding to be over.

"Dani, it'll work out. Dad's not gonna make a scene and so what if he's _less_ than supportive. You and Olivia are amazing together, you have a beautiful family and you're going to have an incredible, happy life," I said, giving her the lite, slightly rushed version of a pep talk we'd been through more than a few times over the past couple of days.

"Lester can pick up Carlos from the airport and _you_ can help mom, abuela (Spanish: grandma) and Celia keep dad from freaking," she pleaded, digging her grip into my forearm in an effort to hold me in place.

"Nu-uh," I replied, removing her hand and dropping it along side her flouncy, hot pink jumpsuit with the tinkle of her gold, hammered bracelets. "Just fake a few tears if dad get's too… persnickety, he's a sucker for that."

"Maybe with you, _you're_ the baby," she huffed lightly, nudging my with her shoulder, her argument taking me back to junior high.

I winked at her and turned around to face the rest of our wedding rehearsal party. "Alright guys, we've got to get this show on the road so we can make it to dinner to celebrate these two!" I announced before helping to shuffle everyone to their respective positions. The wedding was being held in a botanical garden that by tomorrow would be filled with bistro lighting and clusters of light blue hydrangeas.

Olivia and her mom were ready to go on one side of the wedding ceremony area and my dad was being dragged, like a belligerent child, over to Daniella by my grandmother. They would be walking in from one side and Dad would be accompanying Daniella from the other to meet in front of an arch formed by several bare tree branches. I couldn't wait to see it all twinkly and romantic tomorrow.

I met Dad and Abuela Rosa (Spanish: Grandma Rosa) just as they got to Daniella, her other three bridesmaids, and my stand in. "Alright, just walk pretty and I'll see everyone at dinner with Carlos," I said.

I'd barely started sauntering away when I heard my father push out a pointed huff followed by my grandma's admonishing "Raphael!"

"Dani, mija (Spanish: daughter), you don't _really_ want me to walk you down the aisle? Do you?" dad asked her quietly.

I twisted sharply back around in time to take in Daniella's momentarily hurt face until she schooled it into the calm, impenetrable facade she donned as a human rights lawyer. I could tell from her tightening posture that she wasn't going to fight him on it anymore. Dad had become more and more vocal of his distaste of the upcoming nuptials and Daniella was beyond caring what he thought or trying to cajole him into being a willing participant of their big day. I'd talked to her about it on and off since they first got engaged, and despite her seeming nonchalance, I knew the truth. I knew that deep down, she wanted her father to be there, tears of pride in his eyes as he walked her down the aisle to join herself with the person she loved.

"Daddy!" I exclaimed harshly along with abuela's "Raphael!"

"What! All of our family and friends will be here and I… it's a _delicate_ situation," he offered hotly in explanation.

"It's a delicate situation?" Celia tossed back, ignoring Daniella's pleading gaze that we would allow this new development to pass quietly.

"Yes, it is. And Valencia can walk you down the aisle," he suggested, not quite meeting any of our eyes. "It'll be better, you know, for symmetry because Olivia's mother is walking her down the aisle as well," dad added, surreptitiously backing away from the gaggle of angry, disappointed women made up of me, my sisters, my grandma and now, his wife.

My sisters and I just stood there, unsure how to reply to this new and sadly not unexpected turn of events. "Pues? (Spanish: Well?)" Grandma Rosa asked, staring expectantly at my mom, implying that it was definitely time for her to put dad in his place. After a few moments, she huffed frustratedly and took matters into her own hands. "Me senté y miré a tomar un terrible error la última vez que no sabía cómo manejar a alguien que debería haber apoyado, y no voy a hacerlo de nuevo, (Spanish: I sat back and watched you make a terrible mistake the last time you didn't know how to handle someone you should have supported, and I will not do it again)" she said, in a strained yet stentorian tone.

"Deja's Mama, (Spanish: Stop Mother)," my dad bristled but was cut off by his mothers outstretched hand.

"(Spanish: You have another opportunity to accept the blessing of a child's courage and independence and I expect you to take it)," Grandma Rosa added definitively, grabbing his forearm and jerking him to Daniella, looping her arm through his. Grandma then leaned up to give Daniella a kiss on one cheek and to loving pat her other before daintily making her way to a folding chair in what would be the guest seating area tomorrow. She waved her hand and smiled genially, indicating that we needed to get the wedding rehearsal started. "Apúrate! (Spanish: Jump to it!)" she added, with a clap.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 22 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

The second I stepped off the escalator to the baggage claim area I saw my baby sister, Camilla, waiting for me, bouncing on her toes with excitement. She had been the only one of my siblings to keep in touch with me after I'd had too close a brush with the law during my misguided youth and my parents had sent me to Miami to be rehabilitated. My father was very much a pupil of the out of sight, out of mind school of thought, but Camilla never gave up on me. I was her big brother who could do no wrong and she made sure I knew through weekly letters she wrote from when I was shunted to Miami to every deployment with the Rangers.

"Carlos!" she squealed when she caught sight of me, garnering amused glances from the other recently deplaned passengers.

I opted to arch an eyebrow at her in response. She sidestepped my dearth of enthusiasm and flung herself at me, squeezing her arms tightly around me and refusing to release me until I returned the hug.

"It's nice to see you too," I said, nudging her out towards the parking lot.

"I can't believe you didn't make it in time for the wedding rehearsal," she huffed, her lilting gait flouncing her mustard skirt. "And you didn't even come home for Thanksgiving or Christmas."

"I had work. Besides, I don't have a role in the wedding," I replied.

"Ugh, fine. So, what's new with you?" she asked me as I dropped my black duffle into the trunk of Celia's car before snagging the keys from a pouting Camilla.

"Work. Where are we headed?" I queried, settling into the front seat of the BMW sedan.

"Seriously? _That's_ your answer?" she bristled, slipping off her colorful wedge heels and tucking her feet under her in her seat. "We've missed seven months of monthly dinners and all you have to say is _work_ ," she mocked.

I just shrugged in response, it was the truth. I'd been throwing myself even more into work than normal to keep my mind from wandering and over thinking things that were better left alone. "Camilla," I said warningly, "where's the dinner?"

"Vero Amore, it's a ritzy brick oven pizza place. Eva, Daniella and Olivia's daughter, said she wanted pizza for the wedding so this is the compromise they came up with," Camilla explained huffily.

"I know my niece's name," I replied dryly, aiming the car towards the pizzeria.

"Hey, you haven't seen her in _months_. You could've forgotten," she replied in her most bratty tone with a shoulder shrug.

I decided to move the slightly forced bonding along. "Your turn to share." I said.

"Fine," she replied after trying to glare me into sharing for a few moments. "Well, soldier man, I've actually been pretty busy between getting Mod Management up and running and wedding planning."

"Mod Management?" I asked. I'd heard a few snippets about Camilla's new business, but since our relationship over the past year and a half had been comprised of months of radio silence because I was out on assignment followed by my relocating to Miami and her leaving voicemails that I never managed to return, I was still fairly out of the loop. Well, out of the loop aside from the information that came up when I ran a background check on her business and business partner, naturally.

"Things are going really well. Currently the firm is just me and my friend Tucker Kruger, but we have a solid, growing base of clients," she explained excitedly. "The next time you come up you have to visit me in the city. I want to show you around our office and this really awesome food truck that makes the most stupidly delicious croquetas and empanadas."

"Congratulations, Cam. That's really great," I said proudly, feeling even worse for backing out of her life for the past several months at her beaming smile.

"Thanks Carlos," she added sincerely.

"So, how'd you end up starting your own business?" I asked. I know the firm she got hired at right out of school was highly sought after and I was surprised to learn she'd leave such an established company that could offer her a bright future and endless opportunities.

"I just got fed up with my bosses. They were so shortsighted and ugh, you know?" She continued on without really waiting for a response, " _so_ I quit. I got passed up for an assignment that I deserved, that I would've been _perfect_ for and I just didn't want to put up with it anymore."

"So you quit, just like that?" I asked, aware that my words and not tone would convey surprised at her brazen behavior.

"Yup, about eight or nine months ago," she replied unabashedly, popping the p. "I quit and came out to Newark to tell Mom and Dad, but I decided to put it off because… well, you _know_."

"Got scared?" I smirked.

"Hey, we're not all badasses, okay!" Camilla huffed, pushing my suit clad shoulder before continuing her story. "Anyways, I stopped in downtown Newark and I was just wandering around, doing some window shopping when I came upon this little lingerie boutique."

"Stop, I really don't think I prepared to hear the rest of this story," I groused, still unwilling to accept that my baby sister was no longer a baby.

"Baby," she muttered before soldiering on. "So I was checking out the merchandise and ended up totally hitting it off with the owner and designer. She told me about how she got her boutique up and running and how fulfilling it was to be her own boss and I told her about quitting and why. Anyways, we ended up talking about PR and marketing and by the time I left, I ended up with the push I needed to get my business started and Mod Management's first client!"

"Nice," I replied.

"Yeah, it turned out being a pretty awesome day. And she really reminded me of you, which I think helped motivate me to put the plans I'd been saving for my hypothetical future into action."

"I run a security company that has contracts with the government. How is _that_ the same?" I replied, slightly affronted by her comparison.

" _And_ designing! She's a renaissance woman like that," Camilla huffed at my complaint. "Actually, she really is a lot like you. She's hardworking, gorgeous, awesome, thinks I'm awesome-"

"You think I'm gorgeous? _Really_?" I joked.

"Fine. She's gorgeous to your handsome, happy?" she replied. "And she's just as allergic to relationships as you are, although I suppose you did have your mysterious _Babe_ that you no longer mention," Camilla continued, always pushing for more relationship information.

"Camilla," I warned.

"Fine, I won't pry. I'm just sorry it didn't work out. I really thought it would since you finally managed to find someone who could handle your lifestyle and hours. And I still can't believe you never introduced us! Hypocrite," she groused.

"Me wanting to vet your boyfriend is different. I'm your big brother, it's my right," I countered with finality. I had wanted to introduce Camilla, but before I'd gotten a chance, the mission had come up and everything crumbled to disappointing regret.

"Vet? You want to _vet_ my friend?" Camilla clamored, twisting in her seat to cross her arms and glare at me.

"Meet, I meant meet," I halfheartedly attempted to cover.

"Well, I would like for you to meet," Camilla eventually relented, "besides, Lester already took care of threatening Tucker," she added, chagrined.

"I still expect to meet him," I added, nodding in approval of my cousin and business partner's actions.

"Mhmm. You know, if you really wanted to grill him, you'd visit me in New York City," Camilla said, her innocent suggestion belied by her chortle. "And you could meet my friend with the lingerie boutique!"

"Seriously? You're trying to set me up?" I questioned archly.

"What? No! I just thought you could make a new friend. A _lady_ friend," Camilla replied, refusing to acknowledge my accusation. "Besides, I'm allowed to look out for you too!"

"I'd be touched if that were true. I'm pretty sure you just want an excuse to tether me to New Jersey and a sister-in-law you don't feel the need to nickname your shrew-in-law," I stated dryly, eyes crinkling slightly at her agape stare.

"Can you blame me? Mia's _awful_ and I was 17 when she and Raphael got married."

"Why do you think I kept it a secret?" I replied slyly, pulling into a parking spot in front of Vero Amore's red brick facade.

"Are you ready for step two of our wedding countdown?" she teased, slipping out of the car oblivious to the buzzing sense of apprehension I couldn't clearly discern the source of. "Come on," she called me towards the double wooden doors with frosted glass inlays with a wave, "we reserved the private room towards the back."

I followed Camilla's excited trot into Vero Amore, allowing her pull me towards the back room as I cast my eyes around trying to identify a reason for my unease aside from the forced mingling and merriment awaiting me. After waving at the hostess who gave me an appreciative once over, Camilla led me through the dimly lit restaurant littered with occupied circular tables and the lingering scent of oregano and basil. We were halfway to the wooden lintel that led to Daniella and Olivia's reveling wedding party when I spotted the familiar back of a leaving restaurant patron a few tables away. My steps slowed and Camilla's hand slipped from me arm as I watched her whirl around, her riotous chestnut tresses fanning around after giving her dining companion a hug. I stood, unable to move as her gaze lifted and locked onto mine, the shock and disbelief I felt mirrored in her raised brow and striking azure eyes.

"Babe?" a whisper left my lips, barely audible even to myself.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 22 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

I felt a weird tingling float up my spine before settling at the base of my neck. A tingling I hadn't felt in a long time. My mind flashed back to the conversation with Lester yesterday, him warning me that this might happen. I stiffened as I realized that despite making plans to avoid this very confrontation, I hadn't been successful.

I looked across the table at Alexander Ramos, his surprised and amused expression confirming the sinking feeling in my stomach. Alexander had taken me out to dinner for an early celebration of the new w*ish boutique locations because he would be out of town during the official celebration.

"Well, krotída mou (Greek: my firecracker), it looks like our celebration is over," Alexander commented lightly in his gravely voice, leaving a generous tip on the table next to the remains of his cappuccino for our perky waitress before rising and helping me out of my seat. He pulled me in for a quick, supportive hug and whispered "give him a chance, but give him hell first," in my ear before bussing my cheek and sauntering toward the entrance.

I took a deep breath to steel my nerves before swiveling around to find myself four feet from the dark whiskey gaze that I was too ashamed to admit still frequented my dreams. I'm not prepared for this, I thought to myself, despite having had a warning and the countless messages I'd left him over the past 18 months to facilitate this very event. And how did he look _even more_ handsome than the last time I saw him? Unfair! At least I'd decided to doll my self up for our celebratory dinner in a fitted black dress with sheer paneling across the waist.

Alexander walked past him with a small nod of acknowledgment that he was oblivious too but managed to snapped me to attention. I decided to follow Alexander's example and rabbit, hoping to avoid having the conversation we'd both staved off for far too long. I'd made it halfway to him when I regretfully registered the woman accompanying him.

"Steph! Oh my gosh! What are you doing here?" Camilla exclaimed, pulling my rigid form into a warm hug that was unable to penetrate the chill prickling at my skin.

"I-Ramos-I had dinner plans with Alexander Ramos," I offered feebly, pointing limply at Alexander's retreating form.

"Oh yeah, you were celebrating early with him. Do you wanna join us for the wedding rehearsal? You're more than welcome," she offered, her bubbly personality chaffing at my tensed nerves.

"N-no, thank you but just… no," I replied. Pulling away from her and hoping to slip silently to the door until I heard a forced throat clearing.

"Oh wait! Steph, you can _finally_ meet my brother, Carlos," Camilla exclaimed exuberantly, twisting to gesture at him. "Carlos, this is Stephanie Plum, the owner and designer of w*ish lingerie. It was her boutique I stumbled into the day I quit and decided to start Mod Management."

"It's nice to meet you," I rushed out, refusing to feel guilty at the flash of hurt that clouded his eyes.

"Ranger, I go by Ranger," he said gruffly, holding his hand out.

I tentatively shook his hand, jerking mine back at his clear reticence to do so. "It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you from Cam," I offered empty politeness. "Well, I've got to be going," I added, beginning to shuffle away.

"Ramos, really?" Ranger scoffed, halting my clumsy retreat.

"Oh, _no_! They're not… no," Camilla scoffed. "Besides, that would make it super creepy with his nephew…" she added, petering off when she saw my strained expression.

"Well, I'll see you later Cam. Give my best to Daniella and Olivia," I said, forcing a smile.

"Sure, Steph," she replied slowly, sensing my unease. "And Daniella and Olivia loved the lingerie you designed for them. Everyone did," she gushed. "Thank you, and I'll talk to you soon."

I nodded in reply, attempting to thank her with my expression. Unfortunately, I was stopped by Ranger's dominating presence before I could make my escape.

"So, lingerie huh," he said in a deep tone that was annoyingly alluring, crowding me against my recently vacated table and invading my senses with the scent of Bulgari I'd associated with him when we first met years ago. He brushed a few curls from my shoulder and leaned in to murmur, causing the breath of his voice to ghost over my neck, "you _would_ be amazing at that, Babe."

 _Babe_ , the endearment I once craved stung like a slap and I couldn't help recoiling noisily against the table, causing the dishes to clatter. "Stephanie, my name is _Stephanie_. Or Ms. Plum, if you're feeling formal," I bit out before placing both my palms on his annoyingly firm chest and shoving him roughly away. I deftly slid past him and scurried towards the door as fast as my sparkly, silver heels could carry me. My heart was threatening to thunder out of my chest and I was certain the dazed expression of dawning recognition and betrayal on Camilla's face as she connected unseen dots would haunt me forever.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 01 NOV 2013 (17 Months Ago)**

It was 0400 and I had thirty minutes left before I needed to report to leave on my mission, just enough time for one last stop. I checked the RangeMan GPS tracking app on my phone as I pulled up to the Stankovic residence, a small, two-story house on the periphery of the Burg. Luckily for me, Stephanie and her friends had decided to take advantage of her friend Mary Lou's kids spending the week with their grandparents by spending the night at Mary Lou's after attending Trenton's annual Halloween party. Since I'd ended our relationship, Stephanie had been understandably frosty towards me and I was fairly certain she might call my own guys, her Merry Men, to come and kick my ass if I broke into her new apartment.

I rolled my porsche silently past the Stankovic residence and parked a couple houses down near a lawn that was being overrun by garden gnomes. I slipped out of my seat and silently crept over the fence to their side door, shaking my head at their naivety for refusing to get a home security system. I even had Stephanie offer them a friends and family discount, but they balked at the existence of crime in their small slice of suburbia. I had the deadbolt, an overrated exercise in futility, unlocked in a few seconds and headed upstairs with practiced, silent steps. Fortunately, I knew she tended to commandeer the room at the end of the hallway when she spent the night at Mary Lou's from a surprisingly enjoyable, late night conversation a handful of months ago. She'd stayed here after a Girls' Night that involved a few too many margaritas and instead of going to sleep, she felt compelled to call me to complement my choice of shower gel and share her rambling opinion of whether she preferred my pectorals to my eight pack. I'd smugly replied that she was overlooking my greatest physical attribute and she adorably agreed that my _hair_ was indeed beautiful before giggling and hanging up.

I entered the room and leaned against the doorway, a calm settling over me as I watched her sleeping peacefully, the pieces of her Black Widow costume strewn around the room, marking her path from the doorway to the bed. Since I'd known her, she'd picked a different female superhero to dress up as every year. I'd especially enjoyed last year's Catwoman costume. My lip quirked up in the ghost of a smile as I watched Stephanie shift a little and snuggle further under the puffy, cream and lilac comforter. I stepped over to the head of the bed, crouched down, and brushed a few chunks of slightly matted, curly hair from her forehead so I could view her face clearly, secretly wishing I could see her gorgeous, expressive eyes once before I left for whatever shit storm was awaiting me and my team.

I allowed myself another carefully rationed twelve minutes to indulge my maudlin mood and steal calm from her presence before leaning in to lightly kiss her temple. Once I'd stealthily exited the slumbering home I took one last look up at her window and whispered "te quiero (Spanish: I love you)," before steeling my iron facade, embracing my solitude, and blending into the dark cover of the night while pushing the regret at what could have been back down into the recesses of my tattered soul. This was for the best, I reminded myself sharply. It was for _her_ best, and that was worth occasionally being inundated with regret and disappointment. I was glad to pay the price.

* * *

 **Camilla Manoso POV - 22 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My brother, who moments ago rebuffed my attempts at matchmaking as ridiculous, was hitting on one of my best friends. I was mostly okay with the development, although I'd rather not witness it, until I started to suspect that Stephanie's stiff demeanor and clipped tone was a direct result of her proximity to my brother. Then I heard him call her Babe, and everything tumbled terrifyingly into place.

I'd never really questioned Stephanie's reticence to speak about the father of her twins, the ex that as far as I can tell up and left her without a second thought. Sure, I'd snooped a little for details, but it was her business and I respected her privacy, especially when I found out that she'd only told three of closest friends and her grandmother. And all this time… _she_ was Carlos' Babe… which made her raspberries their raspberries. Holy shit! I _knew_ Serafina's nose looked familiar… and Theo's eyes. Carlos was a _dad_! Carlos was a dad and he didn't know. _He_ didn't know and _I_ knew and holy double shit, if Stephanie was Carlos' Babe, then she worked at RangeMan which meant she knew Lester and Tank and all of the rest of those RangeMan guys. Like _knew_ knew them and not just as acquaintances who were dating two of her best friends. Which meant that they knew and didn't help her with Carlos.

Damn, this was a mess. And since I knew Stephanie wanted to be the one to tell the father, I couldn't even say anything. Crap, I thought, I was the _worst_ at keeping secrets. When I was a kid I always whined about being left out but the truth was my older siblings knew I'd spill at the slightest disapproval from either of our parents and they just couldn't trust me. And I now I had the biggest secret ever and I had to sit through dinner with my family and not spill about Carlos' raspberries.

Stephanie shoved against my brother's chest to free herself from his presence, leaving him staring blankly after her. After the shock wore off, he turned around and took a step towards me, intending to continue towards our waiting family when I stopped him with a glare and an outstretched hand.

"Nu-uh, Carlos. We've apparently got a little more catching up to do," I snarked. "No wonder she balked when I suggested Babe*ish as the name for a new line of lingerie," I joked, hoping to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, Carlos replied with his blank face instead of a response and I decided to let him feel the full brunt of my ire. "Babe? You called her _Babe_?"

"What? She looks it," he replied smugly.

" _She looks it?_ She is one of my best friends," I bit out trenchantly, jabbing my finger into his chest, unconcerned with the deadly glare he was aiming at me "And apparently, she's _also_ your Babe!" I exclaimed trying to reign in my voice to keep from drawing the attention of other patrons, or worse, my family. "You… I can't believe you!"

"Camilla, you need to calm down" he said with a frustratingly placid demeanor given how tempestuously I felt.

"Don't tell me to calm down. I get to be pissed after what you did!"

"What did I do? So I broke up with someone you happen to be friends with now, shit happens," he replied, unperturbed. "Now, people are starting to stare so you need to decide if we need to go outside so you can bitch at me or if you can stow this until we don't have an audience," he explained, as if this was simply another problem to be solved with the mechanical swiftness RangeMan was known for.

"You-you don't know what you've done, walking away from her," I finally said, policing my words to not accidentally let something slip. "I've always been in y our corner, _always_! Because I know that you are a good man, and honorable man, and I never thought I'd say this to you, but I… I'm disappointed in you, _Ranger_ ," I snarled, ignoring the questioning gaze I managed to shock from him.

I stormed off to join the wedding party, trying to school my features into something other than fury. Unfortunately, the first person my gaze locked on to my dear cousin Lester Santos the second I walked into the rehearsal dinner area which managed to reignite my wrath. I walked up to him, latched onto his forearm and dragged him up from his seat towards the edge of the room.

"Whoa Camilla! Watch the shirt, watch the shirt," he exclaimed, "what the hell's going on?"

"Well, I just introduced Steph and Carlos. _That's_ what the hell is going on!" I yelled at him in a whisper. "And guess what?" I continued acerbically at his startled expression, "they already know each other! Are you surprised? Because _I_ was surprised."

"Camilla, just take a breath and calm down," Lester said, his hands on my shoulders in an effort to calm me down.

"I'll calm down when I'm good and ready!" I huffed, punching feebly at his shoulder, "I can't believe you knew. You knew and you didn't tell him or make him come back and man the hell up. Do you know what she's been through? How hard it's been for her and-and… they-she deserves better," I puttered off, blinking the tears of frustration from my eyes.

"Yeah, I know what Beautiful's been through and I know how hard it's been for her, handling this all on her own," he bristled. "You've only known her for a handful of months," he countered, "I've been there for her for _years_ and the only reason I didn't say anything to Ranger is because it's not what _she_ wants. And just because I didn't say anything about the… new developments in her life, doesn't mean that the guys and I haven't yelled at him and threatened him and taken his ass to the mats," he barked before leaving me humbled to rejoin our family.

I took a few deep breaths and straightened my skirt before heading to my seat next to Grandma Rosa. I'd just gotten settled when she turned to me and said "Era su amigo Estephanie que quería introducir a Carlito? (Spanish: Was that your friend Stephanie you wanted to introduce to Carlito?)," drawing Carlos and Lester's rapt attention.

" _No!_ No, no, no, no, no. _Definitivamente_ no! (Spanish: Definitely not!)," I replied, a little too exuberantly given Lester's snort and Celia's surprised expression.

Carlos though, he was as stoic as ever.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 22 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

Deep breaths, everything's going to be fine, I reminded myself on a continual mental loop as I reclined in the wooden rocking chair in the twins' nursery, both of them finally spelling peacefully in my arms. I'd somehow managed to drive home and convince Grandma Mazur and Luke that I was fine so they could culminate their babysitting duties and enjoy the rest of their evening.

After that, I wasn't able to stave off my frantic tears any longer. Unfortunately, the twins did not appreciate my crying and decided to join in, solidarity in numbers or something. After what felt like an endless amount of blubbering apologies from me assuring them I loved them and that everything would be fine, they'd finally fell into slightly fitful sleep in my arms.

And over an hour later, I was still rocking us back and forth, trying to find some peace and calm to replace the catastrophic inner turmoil I was suffering from. I had been waiting for this for a year and a half, the opportunity to finally talk to Ranger about the twins. I'd given up on the hope of him wanting to fold himself into our little family around the same time the twins were born, but he still deserved to know. And I wanted to tell him, but somehow when I saw him and stupidly handsome face, I panicked and _apparently_ decided to go the polar opposite route and pretend that we didn't know each other. Clearly motherhood hadn't had quite the extensive maturing effect on my behavior as I'd previously thought.

Seeing him was shocking enough, but seeing him with Camilla and realizing that meant his family was nearby was too much for me to handle all at once. I just couldn't tell him then, like that. Besides, how would that conversation have gone? _Hey Ranger, long time no see. Oh, hey, before you unceremoniously dumped me, you knocked me up and guess what, you're now the father of twins! Now enjoy your family dinner and I'll see you in another couple of years._ I snorted at the thought of how that would definitely have cracked some sort of reaction from his stoical facade.

I was disturbed from lightly humming a lullaby Grandma Mazur used to sing to me when I'd hide away at her house because Valerie was being mean or I had a fight with Mom by my phone buzzing. I stood up carefully and gently placed Serafina and Theo in their cribs before digging my cell phone out of the glass-crystal encrusted minaudière I'd tossed carelessly onto the zoo themed rug in my rush to hold the twins. "Hello," I barely managed to say before the caller interrupted.

"Beautiful, I heard you had an unexpected encounter this evening," Lester's slightly out of rushed voice greeted me. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, just caught off guard is all. I had no idea Alexander would pick the same restaurant as Daniella and Olivia's Wedding Rehearsal dinner," I replied, my voice light as I tucked my raspberries in snugly before tiptoeing out of the nursery.

"Well, you were bound to see each other eventually. And speaking of, he's on his way to your apartment… right now," he added uncomfortably, undoubtedly with a wince crinkling his features.

"He's _what_?" I exclaimed, surprised at Ranger's initiative given his previous apathy towards me since our breakup.

"Yup, he's on his way. Should be arriving in a few minutes, actually," Lester replied before attempting to alleviate the mood with a joke, "do you need me to stop by, maybe do a little couples therapy?"

"No Les, I can handle it. Despite wanting to have this conversation for the past year and a half, I still somehow feel wildly unprepared," I replied, tiptoeing through the maze of boxes to the living room window and peeking down to the street below.

"Well, if you need anything, just call me or Tank. Okay Beautiful?"

"Mhmm," I hummed as I saw a streetlight glint off the sleek, black porsche pull up the the curb below, alerting me to the pending arrival of a semi-unwanted guest. "He's on his way up," I shared as I saw him lever himself out of the vehicle, still wearing his GQ worthy suit. He subtly surveilled his surroundings before walking to the door of my apartment building.

"Sneaky bastard's fast," Lester mumbled under his breath before addressing me, "call if you need anything."

"It'll be fine Les, it's about time we had this conversation," I reassured him.

"Promise me, Beautiful," Lester demanded.

"I promise, Les. Now, I've got to go and stop the break in I'm pretty sure your cousin is about to perpetrate."

Lester chortled dryly in response. "I'd say go easy on him, but he deserves whatever you can dish out. Give my nephew and niece some hugs from me and I'll see you on Sunday for the move," Lester replied before the click in my ear indicated he'd hung up. I walked carefully to the front door and leaned up to look out of the peep hole, waiting for Ranger and hoping my lamaze breathing techniques could calm my heartbeat.

Within a couple of minutes, I saw him saunter down the hallway to my apartment door. He looked like he was contemplating knocking for a moment before he pulled a slim, black case out of his back pocket, extracted two matte metal tools and crouched down to begin unlocking my door.

Hell no, I thought as his brazen behavior. Maybe Ranger hadn't grown out of his old habits, but _I_ had. I'd out grown finding it charming and misguidedly romantic that he would break into my apartment to visit my under the silent cover of night at about the same time I had the results of my home pregnancy test confirmed by an obstetrician. There was _no way_ I was going to back slide to being the swooning girl he could cajole with a smirk and carefully crafted innuendo.

I gingerly slipped on the silver stilettos I'd kicked off the second I entered the apartment, straightened my posture, and opened the door to find Ranger squatting in front of my door with his lock picking tools and the ghost of a stunned expression on his face as he gazed up at me. "Hello stranger," I greeted him with an arched eyebrow.

"Babe," he replied softly, straightening up and stepping towards me as if to enter my apartment.

I shook my head at his presumptuousness and joined him in the apartment building hallway, pulling the door shut behind me. "Stephanie," I bit out, annoyed at the term of endearment.

"Right, or Ms. Plum, if I'm feeling formal," he smirked. "But it's just us here. There's no one to lie to about our history," he added a bit gruffly.

Apparently I hurt the big bad mercenary's feelings. "It isn't about that, it's about you no longer having the right to call me that."

"I've lost the right?" he questioned, an annoyingly amused quirk pulling up at his lips. Smug bastard. "The right will _always_ be mine. Besides, I know you like it," he added, his voice deep and slightly hypnotizing as he backed me into the door with his looming physique.

I shook my head to clear the reaction I was having to his proximity and to reset my thoughts. I leaned as far away from him as I could, looking up into his dark eyes, "Hmmm, let's see. Dumping me in a bullshit show of machismo followed by radio silence for about a year and a half despite knowing I wanted to hear from you… yeah," I drew out the word, "you've lost the right to call me anything but what I deign to let you," I replied churlishly.

He almost looked affronted until he schooled his visage and crossed his arms, flexing his muscles intimidatingly. "Fine," he barked, "so _Stephanie_ ," he began mockingly, "I hear congratulations are in order."

"Wha-what?" I questioned, shocked that someone had told him about the twins before I had a chance to.

He worked and eyebrow questioningly at my reaction, no doubt cataloguing it for further study at a later date. "Yeah, Camilla filled me about w*ish. I didn't realize you two had gotten so close," he attempted slightly stilted small talk.

"Yeah, well, _a lot_ of things have changed since you knew me," I replied, unable to shake my surly attitude. I ran a hand through my hair, taking a deep breath to focus on the conversation we needed to have. This petty bickering would only serve to exacerbate and frustrate the situation. "Sorry, I didn't really expect to see or hear from you after all this time," I huffed, my eyes focused on both of our shoes, his were a dark mix of functional and dapper whereas mine were sparkly and chic. "Why didn't you ever return any of my messages? I called, emailed, texted… hell, I even sent you snail mail and you _never_ replied," I asked in a barely audible whisper, annoyed at my cracking voice.

"I was busy," he replied succinctly, as if it were a practiced response before adding to his explanation. "I didn't know what to say. By the time I wanted to, it had been so long and I just didn't know what to say."

"So, do you know now? I mean, you showed up at my apartment at 10pm and tried to break in, you must have a plan," I replied. I continued with a warning at his sheepish shoulder shrug, "Oh and the breaking in, I wouldn't try that again."

"You threatening me Ba-Steph?" he flirted, apparently unable to turn it off. I'd like to think it was me, but it was probably just his ego. "You got someone in there you don't want me to meet?" he added with a more steely tone.

Something like that, I thought glibly. "Things are different now, and I need my home, my space to be a safe place."

Ranger snorted in response, apparently amused at my request that he desist his inclination to break and enter. His dismissal of my concerns and requests was starting to chafe.

"Well, you can do what you like, just know that the next time you do, I'll call the police. Or better yet, I'll just have my security company come and deal with you. You know, big, burly, manly men decked out in all black," I snarked.

"You know that won't stop me," he replied, amused. Still amused.

I smiled sweetly and shrugged my shoulders, "I don't know, you may be the boss they respect and sometimes fear, but I'm the honorary _little sister_ they love." I decided to return to my previous question at his lack of response, "so, what did you come to say?" I figured I'd hear him out while I worked up the courage to share the news about Serafina and Theo. It wasn't the best time to tell him, but I wasn't willing to wait 18 months for another chance. Besides, nothing was going to soften the blow. It was life changing news no matter how carefully it was packaged.

"I've missed you and when I saw you today, I just couldn't stay away any longer. I don't want to," he offered with a shy yet dazzling smile. He reached out to touch my hand but I pulled away, clasping both hands tightly to the sheer panelling at my waist. From the look in Ranger's whiskey eyes and the speed with which he withdrew his hand I could tell that he understood that friendship at this point would be ambitious.

"W-well. I… I honestly don't know what to do with that," I mumbled before steeling my courage and facing the conversation I'd been lucky enough to skirt for months. "R-Ranger, I actually need to talk to you about something, if you have a little time."

"Sure Ba-Steph," Ranger replied mechanically.

I wasn't sure how this conversation would go, I just knew I didn't want to risk him blowing up with the twins in the next room, so I locked the apartment door and led him to a small foyer area near the elevators, thankful that I'd grabbed the sleek baby monitor Hector had designed specially for me from the mess of packing materials covering the kitchen counter on my way to stop Ranger's intrusion. I sat down on one end of the burgundy and bronze tufted settee situated across from the reflective elevator doors while Ranger claimed the other and crossing an ankle over his other knee and leaning back with his arm stretched across the back of the settee, completely relaxed.

"I… um… I'm just… well, I've been wanting- _needing_ to, really, talk ab-about-" I babbled disjointedly with increasingly exaggerated hand gestures, a blush rapidly spreading from my cheeks. I wanted him to know about the twins, he _deserved_ to know, I was just scared of his reaction. I knew he barely pictured a long-term relationship in his life, much less adorable, little beings that required nurturing, love, and time. I was loathe to admit that I was afraid that a person I deeply cared about might accuse me of sabotaging and attempting to derail his carefully planned life.

"Stephanie," Ranger said softly yet strongly, the hand near my shoulder almost reaching out to comfort me, "you can tell me anything… or you could."

Despite all the times I'd imagined this conversation, I never really decided how to actually break the news to him. I mostly just pictured what the aftermath would be, how he'd react and what he might want from me or with the twins. But Ranger was right, there was a time that I could say anything to him. And now it was time for me to come clean and share the news of the two small miracles that we created. "Well," I began, forcing myself to hold his gaze, "I f-found out a few weeks after you left for the wind that before you… we split, I… I got pregnant, with twins," my voice a whisper by the end of my explanation. "Congratulations?" I added when it was evident from Rangers slightly agape, shocked expression that he was incapable of forming coherent sentences.


	14. Chapter 10: Part 2

A/N: This is PART 2 of Chapter 10 - it did the thing where I couldn't post all the words into one document. Be sure to read the previous part of the Chapter first or it won't make sense and the build up won't be as awesome...

* * *

 **Part II. "I WISH on a star that somewhere you are thinking of me too." - Selena, "Dreaming of You"**

 **Chapter 10 Part II**

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 20 JUN 2014 (11 Months Ago)**

 _Seriously?_ I was the only person at the intersection yet I couldn't continue on my way to the hospital because of this stupid red light. I _so_ didn't have time for this, I thought, checking for any other vehicles before bypassing the traffic light. I'd been having a fairly pleasant evening enjoying a late night snack of nachos topped with pineapple chunks and ranch while I watched an rerun of _The Mindy Project_. I'd managed to distract myself from my beached whale status when a trip to the kitchen to get a glass of water ended with my water breaking, drenching my sweatpants and the tiled floor.

I cleaned up, called Grandma Mazur to meet me at the obstetrics ward, grabbed my overnight bag and headed for the hospital. I spent the entire drive trying to decide if I should call Ranger or not. As far as I knew, he was still in the wind and probably wouldn't get the message for another several weeks or even months, but part of me _wanted_ to reach out, despite everything. Despite the distance, despite the fact that he wouldn't be able to be there for the births, even despite the fact that he'd callously tossed our relationship away as if it hadn't meant a thing to him. The truth was, I still cared deeply for him and I wanted him to be _here_ , with me. I wanted him to be a part of this journey, this adventure, if only for a few hours.

I pulled clumsily into a hospital patient parking spot and thunked my forehead lightly against the steering wheel, my messy bun bouncing along. I clutched my cell phone, trying to decide what to do. I'd finally begun to realize that regardless of how things shook out between Ranger and I, it was unlikely that he'd ever want to trade in the adrenaline and sultry trysts that accompanied top secret missions for diaper duty and bedtime stories. And honestly, I wouldn't want to force him be anything that he wasn't.

But it didn't matter, because right now, in _this_ moment, I wanted my friend. I wanted my friend to hold my hand and be supportive when I cursed him and tell me that I was doing great and that he was proud of me. Proud of me for the changes I'd made in my life to prepare for motherhood, proud of the person I'd become since seeing the little, pink plus sign on that pregnancy test, proud of me for simply being me.

And before I knew it, I'd dialed his number and the ringing was filling the inside of my vehicle. I held my breath, oblivious to the silent tears staining my face as I waited and hoped that Ranger would answer. "RangeMan, this is Ranger Manoso. Leave a message," his smooth, bass voice shattering my hope.

"R-Ranger," I whispered in an attempt to cover evidence of my tears, "I was just th-thinking about you and I g-guess I just wanted to hear your voice, for a bit. I h-hope everything's going well and that you'll be home soon. I… be safe, Ranger. Bye." I ended the call and hugged the steering wheel as tears streamed endlessly down my face.

All right, I thought with a hand placed carefully over my ridiculously expanded stomach, you need to be strong, for them. I took a deep breath, mopped up the tears with a kleenex and levered myself carefully out of my seat and headed into the hospital. It was a time to be happy, I reminded myself. It was time to meet our- _my_ raspberries, I corrected myself.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 22 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Congratulations?" Stephanie's voice barely made it through the white noise that was assaulting my senses.

I had kids? How the hell had that happened? I, Ranger Badass-Army-of-One Manoso, was a _father_. What the fuck! This had to be some sort of mistake or practical joke gone terribly awry. I forced my eyes to focus on Stephanie's face and read the truth clearly written in her azure eyes. I was a father, to twins. Holy fuck…

"Steph," I managed to whisper after noisily clearing my throat, "are you sure they're mine?"

" _Of course_ I'm sure," she scoffed, annoyed at my reaction.

"You're not trying to…" I managed to stop myself before asking if she was trying to trap me, thankfully. Not even me trying to find my bearings after hearing such life altering news could've excused that level of crassitude, despite my past experiences. Unfortunately, her impossibly highly raised eyebrows indicated she'd caught on to my concern.

"Oh yeah, Ranger," she sniggered before continuing with a slightly high, brittle tone, "I'm trying to trap you and force you to play _house_ with me. I know I didn't matriculate from super spy school like you, but even _I_ know that _this_ as a plan," she bit out churlishly, her hand gesturing in jerky circles between us, "is crap."

I decided to move on to why I was just now hearing this news when she could've told me at any point during the past almost two years. "Why didn't you tell me?" I barked, my voice full of anger.

"Why do you think I kept trying to get a hold of you when it was clear you wanted nothing to do with me? It sure as shit wasn't to get you back," she sniped and rolled her eyes at the shimmer of dawning recognition on my face.

Fine, I admitted to myself, I may have thought the reason Stephanie kept reaching out to me was for me. I figured she missed me and wanted to see if maybe we could rekindle things. I'd expected for her to tell me that I'd left her heartbroken and with questions, not heartbroken and _with child_. "You could've gotten word to me through Tank, Santos or any of the guys. Hell, you could've even had Camilla tell me," I shot back.

" _I_ wanted to be the one to tell you," she replied simply, shrugging her shoulders as if it made perfect sense to hold out on such monumental news for bullshit propriety.

"And who did you tell in the meantime?" I snapped back harshly. It chaffed me to know that so many people in New Jersey knew that I had kids before I did. That's what wasn't right. Who cares how I heard or from who? _Women_.

"I only told my closest friends. The other people who know guessed and I never _really_ confirmed their suspicions either way," she retorted, her arms now crossed in front of her as she leaned back against the armrest to face me.

"So you're saying _my employees_ knew before me? And you had them _lie_ to me?" I roared, the fury finally taking over the more clearly I saw the situation. I can't believe Stephanie would put my employees in that situation and I really can't believe they would side with her over me. Fucking bullshit. "Y-you _stole_ all that time from me! I never thought you were the vindictive type."

"I _tried_ to tell you and I get that you're pissed, but it was _your_ lack of willingness to communicate that put you in this position," she explained calmly, leaning forward a bit. "And as much as it hurt, your silence was… edifying. You warned me before we got together that you weren't the family type and you dismissing my messages as petty or trivial and not worth your time confirmed that for me."

"Confirmed what exactly?" I demanded, unsure of where she was going with this but confident that I wouldn't agree. It seemed to be the theme of this particular conversation.

"That you're happy with your life… and that there isn't room in it for anyone else," she replied softly, the ghost of her heartbreak flitting through her eyes.

Ouch, I thought, almost reaching up to rub at my chest, I'd never has such a visceral reaction to someone's disappointment before. Stephanie had always believed in me and defended me, regardless of circulating rumors and questionable facts and losing that was more of a blow than I was expecting. I guess I'd finally pushed her too far. But the thought of her just writing me off… I couldn't let that happen. I refused to. "I'm sorry you think so, _Babe_ ," I glared, my voice dangerously calm and my fingers strumming along the back of the garish settee, "but I'm not walking away from _our_ kids."

"Wha-but… you're not… are you serious? Why?" she sputtered incredulously, completely thrown off by my response.

"Because, children should know their father. It's the right thing to do," I replied matter-of-factly, shrugging one shoulder slightly.

" _Because children should know their father?_ _That's_ what you think is doing the right thing?" she mocked derisively.

"Yeah," I countered bitingly, "Now that I know, I'll let them get to know me when I have time."

"Holy shit, you're _serious_!" she exclaimed. "Ranger, _no_ … just no. What is _wrong_ with you?" Stephanie questioned with wide, expectant eyes.

"Excuse me?" I bit back.

"Gladly," she huffed under her breath before schooling her features and taking a deep breath. "Ranger, you can't flit into their lives when you happen to have a free weekend. Do you know how damaging that would be? For them to wait on a Dad who only deigns to spend time with them when he has nothing better to do?" she asked, her voice cracking a bit as she blinked rapidly.

"Well, it's what I can offer," I explained.

"Well… it's not good enough. They _deserve_ better than you simply extending your stance on relationships with women to them," she said, surreptitiously brushing away a few errant tears. "I _refuse_ to let you hurt them like that," she vowed, fire in her voice. "I didn't tell you to make you feel guilty or ask for anything. I… we don't need anything from you. I just wanted you to know. I _owed_ you that. _Nothing_ more," she whispered after a few moments of silence and heavy breathing on my part.

This woman was infuriating. Why didn't she get it? I was trying to do the right thing, why wouldn't she just _let_ me? Unfortunately, I was beyond reasoning and decided to rely on tried and true intimidation to convey my point. I stood up and stepped in front of where she was perched, leaned forward and caged her in with my arms, resting one hand on the back of the settee near her neck and the other on the arm. "Stephanie, I _will_ be in their lives," I decreed in a dangerous whisper, my legendary control finally snapping.

"No!" she countered immediately while shoving at me shoulders futilely and shaking her head causing her riotous curls to splay around her in a halo, taunting me to grab them.

"Yes. This _is_ happening," I replied, "now, I'd like to meet our kids. Now," I demanded, tugging her out of her seat by her upper arms. She immediately started wriggling out of my grasp and fell with a muffled thunk back against her seat. Before I could make a grab for her again she shot around me and planted herself firmly between me and the apartment hallway that led to her apartment door, her hands akimbo.

"No, Ranger. You're _not_ meeting them. Not now and _definitely_ not like this," she stated definitively, her tone brooking no argument.

"Normally, I'd find the rebelliousness very hot, _Ms. Plum_ ," I smirked, stalking slowly towards her enjoying her flinch as my leer buzzed against her skin, "but I'm just not in the mood. Now, take me to see our twins or get the fuck out of my way," I bit out menacingly.

"Ranger, calm down. They're asleep and I don't want you to be like _this_ when they first meet you," she said slowly, taking a few steps backwards as I advanced on her.

"Like _what_?"

"Angry," she explained, her clear, blue eyes annoyingly caring, as if her kindness was mocking me. "Scary," she added softly, halting my steps with the genuine fear in her tone. Fear not for herself but for our kids, my kids.

"Fine, but I'm not just going to _leave_. I am going to be in our kids' lives, I'll fight you for custody if I have to," I threatened, leveling her with a pointed glare to be sure she knew how serious I was.

"You-you can't… you can't do that," she whispered, shocked and scared as tears began steadily smudging her mascara. " _Please_ Ranger, d-don't do this," she cried.

"I'm not doing anything, this is _all_ you, _Babe_. We were headed here the moment you decided you had the right to dictate my relationship with our kids," I glowered, advancing on her once again.

"You still don't get it," she scoffed harshly, stepping further away into the hallway, "it isn't about _you_ and your ego. It's about _them_ and what's in their best interest. And you, well, you're not."

"We'll see what a judge says," I taunted, backing her against the muted hallway wall, "I'm pretty sure your friendship with notorious arms dealer Ramos should be enough to tip the scales." I took a step back to bask in her alarmed expression before leaning down to place a kiss on her clammy, tear stained cheek. "Pass that along to our kids for me."

I'd made it halfway to the elevators when I heard her voice ring out behind me, brittle but determined. " _My_ kids. _Mine_." I twisted to look back at her, both of us vibrating with intensity. "You don't even know their _names_. You didn't even care to ask," she hid her hurt behind the thin veneer of a scoff.

I stepped clumsily back in an effort to escape the truth of her words. _How_ could I have missed the fact that I didn't know my kids' names? What the fuck kind of dad didn't know his own kids' names? I barely registered Stephanie make her escape, leaving me with the sharp staccato of her jarringly bright heels as I sunk back into the maroon settee, my face resting in my hands as I stared blankly at my distorted reflection in the elevator doors that seemed alarmingly perspicacious.

* * *

 **Victoria Slade POV - 22 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Vic? Vicky? Wake up Vic, you're phone's ringing," Duncan urged, his voice cloudy with sleep. We'd both played hooky today and spent the day getting to know each other… mostly in bed although we did spend a little time on the couch, against the wall and in the shower. Oh, and there was a bit of exuberant making out in Duncan's convertible on the way back from brunch. After completely exhausting ourselves, we'd reluctantly drifted off to sleep when apparently my phone woke Duncan up who woke me up. I was sore in places I didn't know I had and I was going to have to kill whoever disrupted my much needed beauty sleep.

"Ugh, gimme," I said, grasping my phone without moving from my perch against Duncan's chest. "'lo," I mumbled blearily into the phone.

"Vic? Oh my gosh, Vic? Are you there?" Stephanie's frantic voice snapping me to alertness like a splash of cold water.

"Steph? Stephanie, is that you? What's wrong? Why are you calling at…" I checked the display screen to see that it was only 11:47pm, "oh, never mind," I mumbled.

"I-I need your help. I don't know what to do," she cried, panicked at something.

"Steph, you're not making any sense. Start at the beginning, what's going on?" I queried, sitting up in bed and shaking Duncan awake, apparently Stephanie's panic was spreading to me and I was intent on sharing it with Duncan. I guess we were going to be that couple.

"He's _back_ and I didn't think I'd actually end up telling him about the raspberries, but he saw me and I did and…and," she broke off into tears.

"Shit, Steph. You mean _Ranger_? Ranger's back and he knows about Serafina and Theo?" I tried to confirm while wondering how the hell this had happened. She hears nothing from him for over a year and all of a sudden he's back and she's in terrified tears.

"He's back and he's pissed. Pissed I didn't tell him about the twins earlier and he threatened… he threatened… Vic what am I gonna do?" she wailed, still too shook up to convey her thoughts coherently.

"Threatened? What the hell does he have to threaten _you_ about?" I exclaimed, drawing Duncan's worried gaze as he tried to decipher what was happening from my side of the conversation.

"He's pissed and I didn't want him to see them like… that. I told him I wasn't sure if he should meet them at all and he just lost it. He sa-said that he was going to fight me for custody and take them and just… Vic, he said he's going to _take_ them!" she yelled, taking frequent, noisy breaths, clearly on her way to hyperventilating.

That obtuse, muscly bound shit! I can't believe that this is how he chose to react to the news of being a father, by having the gall to threaten her. As if it's _her_ fault he wasn't in the know. She did everything she could to be able to share the news with him, but he couldn't be bothered to take a few minutes out of his life to talk to her. Asshole. And now he's _threatening_ her with a custody suit, hell no.

"Steph, I need you to get a glass of water and just breathe. There is _no_ way that Ranger is going to take Serafina or Theo away from you. No way, okay?" I said, slipping out from under the gray bedding and scrounging around for my clothes. "Okay?"

"O-okay, okay," she replied shakily, her breathing still erratic but her tone a little less frenzied. "What about Ramos?"

"Alexander Ramos? What about him?" I asked, unable to follow her mental hopscotching.

"Ranger said the judge is gonna think I'm… unfit because I'm friends with Ramos. Why did I have to accept his investment offer?" she groused.

"Don't worry, Steph. Ramos adores you. If things go south, you can always just ask him to whisk you and the raspberries away to some tropical island," I suggested.

"What?!" she exclaimed. Clearly it was too soon to attempt levity. Good to know.

"Calista and I will be there as soon as possible and we're gonna figure this out," I said in the most convincing tone I could muster as Duncan handed me a collared, button down shirt of his as neither of us could find my blouse. "No one is taking those two anywhere, I promise," I vowed solemnly before we said our goodbyes. "Duncan, I have to go," I began to explain as he pulled me into his lean chest.

"Go, just let me know if there's anything I can do to help," he said softly before giving me a kiss and walking me to the door where I stuffed my feet into my heels.

I rushed to my car, fumbling with my keys and dialing Calista. Between the two of us and Calista's boyfriend having direct access to Ranger, I was hopeful that we'd be able to figure this out before Stephanie completely lost it. What the hell was Ranger thinking!

* * *

A/N: I hope you like it! I've been _waiting_ to share the big reveal and I hope it lived up to your expectations. Be sure to read the first part of this chapter if you missed the whole split chapter situation thing.

Happy Thanksgiving!


	15. Chapter 11

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thank you for the reviews/follows/favorites, I really appreciate your feedback and support. Also, I'm phoning in the editing even more than usual - just a heads up...

* * *

 **Part II. "I WISH on a star that somewhere you are thinking of me too." - Selena, "Dreaming of You"**

 **Chapter 11**

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 23 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

In an effort to clear my mind, I'd driven around aimlessly after managing to scrape myself off the settee in Stephanie's apartment building. Unfortunately, the powerful hum of my porsche was unable to drown out my thoughts on Stephanie's announcement or keep me from grimacing at how rapidly my conversation with Stephanie escalated into a confrontation.

I prided myself on practicing constant vigilance. It's what made me unflappable and prepared for any situation. It's the only reason I'd made it out of countless war zones, both local and domestic. Things didn't rattle me or throw me off kilter. I should've known that Stephanie Plum would be the exception to that rule, like so many of my others, I scoffed at myself.

How had my desire to get caught up on a friend's life and ascertain if the spark between us persevered turn into me threatening legal action? It seemed like the logical response to her stubbornness and rigidity regarding our children. Holy shit, I thought, as the wave of emotion that accompanied me-us having children blanketed me once again. Surprisingly enough, none of those emotions were anger. Sure, I was angry at Stephanie for not finding a way to tell me earlier. I know I didn't make it easy on her, but between the people we had in common, she could've found a way, if she'd wanted to. But then, given her reticence to let me see the twins or even consider my role in their lives, it didn't seem like she wanted to, not anymore.

Being a father was something I'd actively avoided. Stephanie wasn't wrong when she pointed out that I hadn't made room in my life for a relationship, much less parenthood. She wasn't wrong about most of the things she so brusquely pointed out, I lamented, except for wanting to be a father, the realization dawned on me.

I _wanted_ to be a father to our children. When the hell had that happened, I wondered, as I marveled at the hope and awe the thought of our children brought to me rather than the sense of regret and impending doom I'd been expecting to feel inundated with. I know I'd warmed to the idea of an actual, longterm relationship. Stephanie had seen to that when we'd been together, although I never got around to telling her. We'd only officially been together a couple of months before I got the call and everything went to shit. The someday I'd pictured for us was surprisingly domesticated despite the fact that accessorizing to me meant two guns, a knife, and lock pick set. And yeah, I admitted to myself as I raced past Stephanie's old apartment, where I'd first asked her out surprising us both, the abstract someday I pictured did have a little girl with Stephanie's sparkling eyes, my dark hair, and a latte skin tone that was the perfect blend of us both… and I sincerely hoped she also gained my ability to not blow up a car and repel Morellies.

And instead of one perfect mini-mixture of the two of us, I'd been gifted with two. Two children whose names, genders, and birthdays I'd failed to ascertain. Two children whose lives were now my responsibility, a responsibility I was eager to undertake.

Now, if only I could convince Stephanie to let me into their lives… her life, I thought wryly as I compared it to my only other experience with pregnancy news.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 09 NOV 2003 (11 Years, 7 Months Ago)**

I sat in the dingy, dark apartment of my latest on leave fling to celebrate another successful, grueling mission with my Ranger battalion. I'd picked her up at a known military bar with a few vacuous complements and a licentious smirk and we'd spent the next several hours pleasurably exhausting ourselves.

It had been a hazy yet satisfying memory until the voicemail I received a few days ago informing me that our dalliance had an unintended repercussion. I'd called her immediately, well immediately after I sobered up. I chose to celebrate the news by drinking away the feelings of claustrophobia, anxiety and frustration rather than distributing cigars or mainlining pregnancy books for men. I had my future and career all mapped out and it was going to be derailed because of one stupid mistake.

When we'd spoken, Rachel's stilted response to my insistence on a paternity test triggered my surveilling her for the past few days. And what an edifying few days it had been. Apparently Rachel Costa was quite the practiced liar, con artist, and aspiring dependasaurus. For starters, she wasn't single as she'd implied the night we'd met. Her being attached didn't really phase me, it was more the fact that her being attached and at that bar implied her boyfriend or husband was a fellow military man which could get dicey. I'd seen careers stymied over that shit and I wasn't about to let all my hard work be voided over some mediocre piece of ass. Rachel also wasn't a freshman majoring in psychology or a part-time yoga instructor. She may or may not be a fan of hot tubs like she'd salaciously intimated, but honestly, I didn't give a shit. The only truthful thing she'd told me was that she was indeed knocked up. Luckily, it was one of her tatted up boyfriends and not me who was on the hook for the next 18 years.

I marshaled my anger fueled thoughts as I heard some muffled laughter and a key being scraped through the flimsy lock of the apartment door. I leaned back against the lumpy, canvas futon, the picture of relaxation I made was belied by the fury and danger emanating from me.

"I can't believe you said that! You're such a jerk!" I heard Rachel's grating voice as she stepped into her apartment, completely oblivious to me lurking in the darkened living room as she yammered on her phone. "Whatever," she tittered, tossing her wavy brown hair riddled with straw colored highlights, "are we still on for dancing tonight-" her speech halted and she had a terrified expression that attempted to school in one of seduction when she registered who I was and the precariousness of the situation. "I-I have to go, I'll call you later," she stuttered before hanging up abruptly. She cautiously placed her purse and keys on the kitchen counter that was littered with dirty dishes and half drunken beer bottles, hopefully not hers, although I didn't have high hopes for any children of hers despite her adherence to prenatal nutrition. "R-ranger? What-when did you get here?" she queried with a mix of trepidation and flirtation as she slowly, jerkily sauntered over to me, perching herself next to me on the edge of futon.

"I thought we could talk," I said calmly, biting back my rage.

"S-sure, I always have time for you," she added with a forced chuckle, a dismal attempt at lightening the mood. Rachel was attractive, empirically speaking, but her viper-like personality far outweighed the meager appeal of her curves.

"I'm here for the truth. This will be your _only_ chance," I explained with a clipped tone, my blank face firmly intact.

"I've only ever told you the truth, baby," she offered in a sickeningly saccharine tone, placing her hand on my knee.

"Rachel," I grit out, removing her hand from my leg and dropping it with a plop onto the futon, "did you really think I wouldn't figure it out? That I'd trust some one night stand when she swears I'm the father of her unborn child?"

"Hey, I don't have to take this shit! We can just wait until it's safe to do the paternity test, but don't think I'm not gonna expect you to shoulder your share of the weight!" she snarled, snapping from amorous to callous.

I laughed darkly, mocking her indignant outrage, "don't worry, I'm not one to shirk responsibilities if they're mine. But I know _this_ ," I added, nodding in her direction, "is not my responsibility."

"We'll see," she quipped loftily.

"Rachel, this is it, your last chance for the truth to save you," I offered, my voice tight with tension as I attempted to marshal my fury. When it was obvious she wasn't going to come clean, I pulled a stack of surveillance photographs from my back pocket and tossed them carelessly onto her cluttered coffee table. Rachel's eyes tracked the images as they scattered across the table, spilling onto the floor. Images of her meeting with a technical from the DNA testing facility, conspiring with a nurse at her obstetrician's office, and cavorting with a myriad of men, none of them me. I enjoyed watching her smug smirk turn to fear followed by outrage. "Turns out the chic you thought you'd successfully manipulated and bribed at the paternity testing lab called the cops. The detective whose desk the case landed on was a guy I went to high school with who gave me a heads up about your scheme before you suckered me into picking up the tab for your kid or marrying you." I'd actually provided the detective with my surveillance photographs and convinced the lab technician to come forward with my considerable acumen for intimidation, but the end result was the same, Rachel was going to jail and I was no longer encumbered by pending parenthood.

"I think you should go," she replied after realizing that the breadth of her deception had been laid bare. She stood up to glare down at me with her arms crossed shakily across her petit frame.

I levered myself laboriously from the futon and stood next to Rachel, shoulder to shoulder with me towering over her. "Don't bother trying to trap another hard working serviceman, I've made sure they know what a succubus you are," I leaned over and whispered, my harsh breath fluttering the chunk of her hair that was wedged between us. I marched out of her shit hole apartment without a backward glance, shoving the front door carelessly shut behind me. I passed by a black and white police vehicle that was idling at the curb with two officers leaning casually against it. "Bitch is all yours," I commented before continuing on my way along the cracked, weed ridden sidewalk.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 23 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

After I'd changed mechanically in the locker room on the second floor of the RangeMan Trenton building on Haywood Street I stepped out into the expansive gym to be greeted by two of my brothers-in-arms and co-owners of RangeMan. Tank and Lester were dressed in RangeMan gym shorts, bare chested, and had their hands wrapped for sparing. They were warming up on the padded mats that were situated in the center of the gym with predatory looks of fury etched on their features.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" I demanded as I lumbered towards them, thankful for the opportunity to work out some of my aggression. My ire increased at their lack of response.

The instant I stepped onto the mats, Lester landed a left cross to my jaw, stunning me momentarily and nudging me towards the center of the mats. "We were too busy having Bomber's back to baby your dumb ass," Tank grunted as he and Lester circled me menacingly.

"We're brothers. You're supposed to have _my_ back!" I roared, lunging at Tank. I landed a few quick jabs to his core before he restrained my by my shoulders and rammed his knee into my stomach, winding me.

"We were," Lester growled as I twisted to keep him and Tank both within my view, "we were watching out for _your_ kids," he added, moving in to deliver a jab-cross-jab combination that I wasn't able to fully block as his words settled into my mind. They had been in my children's lives, probably since before they were born, whereas I'd just now stumbled in and completely blown it.

"And what do you think she would've done if we'd betrayed her trust and told you exactly why you needed to man the fuck up and call her back?" Tank taunted me as we circled each other. Tank shook his head at me in disappointment and disgust when he caught the flicker of cognizance drift across my features. They were right, if Stephanie'd caught wind that they'd gone behind her back and done something she explicitly didn't want, she would've cut them out of her and the twins' lives. That would've left Stephanie and the twins without Tank, Lester and the rest of my men's, and by extension my, support and protection.

"How has Steph been handling everything?" I wheezed as I recovered from an uppercut delivered by an annoyingly smug Tank.

"Fuck you primo (Spanish: cousin)," Lester retorted as I blocked his lunge putting us back into a circling pattern. "How'd your conversation go?" The fire in his tone belied the seemingly innocuous nature of his question which meant that he had some idea of how terribly my tête-à-tête with Stephanie had gone. Fucking gossips, I thought, determined not to share more than was necessary to solicit their help. Anything beyond that was private and none of their goddamn business.

"I was angry she kept the news from me and I let her know," I grunted, landing a few satisfying blows to Lester's jaw and flank.

"And?" Tank prompted with a glare.

"And Stephanie decided she didn't want me to see them," I grunted out bitterly, pissed that they had the honor of being a part of their lives whereas I was restricted firmly to the fringes. Lucky fuckers, I thought as I stalked towards Tank.

"What did you expect? That she'd welcome a pissed off mercenary into their nursery?" Lester scoffed from where he was bent over and inhaling deeply at the edge of the sparring area and wiping some blood from his split lip.

"And?" Tank taunted knowingly as he launched himself at me.

"Fuck you," I snarled as Tank and I grappled.

"I told you," Lester's snarky voice rang out, "he's too much of a chickenshit to admit to threatening the mother of his children."

I shoved Tank away from me and backed up to glower at both of them. "That is none of your goddamn business!" I roared.

"You messed with our little sister, threatened to take away our niece and nephew. It's very much our business," Tank threw back in my face.

"She… we-we have a-a boy and a girl?" I stammered, completely dropping my guard and oblivious to the trickle of blood dripping steadily from my eyebrow and the sweat dotting my body.

"You didn't even ask about their genders?" Lester's voice was filled with abhorrent awe. "Shit. You don't even know their _names_ , do you?"

I kept my eyes firmly focused on the padded ground between us, unable to brave the looks of disappointment and disgust I expected were plastered on their faces. After the thick silence stretched between su for a few moments, I decided to ask them for the twins' names, anything to feel closer to our children, "what are-".

"No. Hell no," Tank interrupted me. "This whole situation is FUBAR (fucked up beyond all recognition), and it's on _you_ to fix it," Tank barked in his commanding officer cadence.

"I… how do I fix this?" I queried begrudgingly, dropping to my knees on the black mats and accepting the perspiring water bottle Tank shoved against my chest.

Tank and Lester assessed my visage before sharing a brief look. "What do you want? With the twins and Stephanie?" Lester asked sincerely if a bit curtly.

"I… I want to be a part of their lives. I _need_ to be a part of their lives," I replied as close to pleading as they'd ever experience from me.

"Then you need to earn it," Tank replied with a nod and arched eyebrow, sweat dripping off his calvous dome.

"How? I lashed out because of my anger and…" I tapered off with a wince as I realized just how horribly I reacted.

"First thing, you need to be present," Lester offered, "in Trenton."

"I've got a few guys in mind to transition to managing positions in Miami and I think Ella would be more than happy to baby proof my apartment on seven," I replied absently, more to myself than to the guys as I thought through my plans.

"Good," Tank grunted and nodded once in approval.

"What do I do about Steph," I reluctantly asked, "she seemed pretty adamant about not wanting me in the twins' lives… or hers." I hated needing their expertise with personal issues, I wasn't a talk about your feelings kind of guy. Of a feelings type of guy, for that matter, but desperate times and whatnot. I missed the days when all I had to do was offer a small platitude or explanation and smile to win Stephanie over. Unfortunately, my friends and men now knew Stephanie better than I did and after my earlier reaction, I couldn't really afford to ignore any remotely accessible fonts of information.

"Show her you're all in," Lester supplied gruffly. "And at some point you're gonna have to explain your mission contract so she's prepared if you're called away again."

"I'm out," I replied. My contract with the government had expired some time ago and I had no intention of signing up for anything else that came up. I was still highly trained and mission ready, but the thought of traipsing off to some godforsaken hell hole at a the drop of a hat to prosecute a designated target or secure a specific outcome no longer held the appeal that it did several years ago. Especially not now that I had so much more to miss out on.

"You were out the last time," Tank scoffed.

"I have a responsibility to them, to the government. I _had_ to go," I defended, rising to my feet again to face Tank and Lester's critical glares.

"You have a responsibility to Stephanie! To your children!" Lester roared as he advanced one me to shove roughly against my chest. "You don't deserve them," he added softly, lending a voice to a fear I'd been actively avoiding.

But it didn't matter if I deserved Stephanie or the twins in this moment or in the past. I'd seen enough suffering to know that not everything was deserved or earned. All I knew was that I'd been given a gift, albeit unexpected, and I was determined to be worthy of them from here on out.

"Find a way to ear our girl's trust back," Tank suggested as he stalked towards the gym door, jarring my bruised shoulder with his as he walk by me, "you might want to start with apologizing for threatening a custody suit, fucker." His footsteps halted when he reached the gym door, drawing my attention. Tank was holding the door open for Cal, Hector, Woody, Vince, Hal, Zero, Ram, Junior, Slick, Binkie and a few others I didn't immediately recognize to file into the gym, all ready to take me to the mats per their threatening stares and narrowed eyes.

Fuck, this was going to be a _long_ night.

"They've been looking forward to this for a little over a year," Lester commented dryly to me, standing next to me to look over a good portion of the RangeMan Trenton staff. "Not the face men, he's got a wedding tomorrow and Tía Valencia will destroy anyone who messes up the wedding pictures," he announced with a chortle to the men who were assessing me, clearly trying to formulate plans of attack which would inflict maximum damage without visible bruising. "We'll meet you on seven with scotch and icepacks," Lester offered, sauntering towards the gym entrance. His steps faltered halfway there as he scrubbed a hand roughly across the back of his neck before turning around to face me. "Those kids… _your_ kids, they're amazing and deserve a father who's 100% vested. If that isn't you, if that can't be you, she'll be disappointed, but that's better than forcing something and regretting it once those kids are attached," he added gingerly.

"This isn't an impulsive or anger fueled decision. I want this, I've wanted this," I explained strongly yet softly enough that my voice only carried over to him.

"Watching Beautiful grow into motherhood, it's been pretty incredible and I hope you find a way to be a part of that," he said, the sincerity in his voice surprising given the hostility I knew he harbored. "But if you hurt any of them, this," he added stiffly, nodding at the mats I was standing on the perimeter of, "will seem like a massage compared to what's in store for you," he threatened solemnly before nodding at me and heading for the gym door. He clapped Cal on the shoulder and jerked his head back in my direction before he left, relinquishing the authority to continue doling out my punishment.

I rolled my shoulders in a vain attempt at loosening up the muscles there as I stepped backwards to the center of the mats and assumed a defensive stance, prepared for whatever punishment they deemed appropriate for my callous actions.

* * *

 **Lester Santos POV - 01 JUL 2014 (11 Months Ago)**

Tank, Cal, Hector, and I had been waiting stoically in the disturbingly sterile hospital waiting room for the past hour and a half. Stephanie's grandmother had called the RangerMan Trenton control room frantic and screeching about how they had to take Stephanie in for an emergency C-section and Tank had done some creative schedule swapping to assure that a few of us closest to Stephanie could come out to check on her and the twins. We limited ourselves to four visitors in ab effort to avoid over-stepping with RangeMan presence because she'd specifically told Edna that she only wanted it to be the two of them until after the births.

After calming down Mrs. Mazur, the five of us traipsed to the nursery to gawk in awe at Stephanie and Ranger's daughter, my niece. She couldn't have been much longer than my forearm and was pretty cute for a wrinkly blob with a mess of downy, espresso hair. The slight lull that her sleepy form brought us was short-lived as we realized Stephanie should've been out of her procedure at least half an hour ago. It was talking all of my not inconsiderable self control to keep from demanding answers from the mousy nurse or calling Calista up and demanding that she and Stephanie's other close friends get here to share my apprehension.

I had stalked halfway to the faux-wooden laminate nurse's counter when a doctor with a sloppily constructed bun and electric blue horn rimmed glasses shielding large, dark eyes. She walked wearily up to Mrs. Mazur where my men and I met her. "Are you all Stephanie Plum's family?" she asked cautiously as she took in our RangeMan gear and menacingly blank expressions.

"Y-yeah, all these hunky men are here for Steph. Now, what's going on? Is she okay? Is my great-grandson okay?" Mrs. Mazur asked with a hysterical bite to her tone, wringing her bony, pale hands.

"Stephanie and her son are both doing fine. She's exhausted and sore, but she did amazingly and I can take you to see her in post-op," the doctor replied, laying a reassuring hand on Edna's bony shoulder.

"Doctor Patel," Tank read from her hospital ID, "why was there a delay?" he asked gruffly in the least aggressive tone he could muster.

"Her son was in a breach position and there was also some unexpected bleeding we had to stanch," she explained plainly, tucking her hands into the pockets of her white physician's coat.

"What will her recovery require?" I queried, inching forward on the pristine, blue and white tiled floor.

"She'll have to stay here for about four days and within six weeks she should be fully recuperated," Dr. Patel answered. Upon my nod of acknowledgement, she continued, "are you ready to visit Stephanie and the twins?" Our motley group marched behind the doctor down a hallway with unnecessarily graphic maternity posters before we arrived at Stephanie's room. "Try to keep it down, we want to promote a peaceful environment for the newborns and their mommy," Dr. Patel said softly before holding the door open to let us in.

I walked into the room behind Mrs. Mazur to see one of the most unexpectedly incredible sights I'd ever seen. Stephanie was lying in a reclined hospital bed wearing a shapeless hospital gown covered in yellow and grey dots and had clammy, pale skin that was dotted sweat and an avalanche of frizzy, matted curls stuck to her forehead and neck. Stephanie was cradling two, tiny bundles in her arms and gazing at them intently with pure joy etched into her features as she meticulously memorized in every eyelash, wrinkle, and shift in their facial expressions.

She looked beautiful.

"Hey Steph," Mrs. Mazur said in a soft, lilting tone as she stepped up to Stephanie's side, finally drawing her attention away from her twins.

She shot us all a blinding smile, tears of happiness slipping silently down her cheeks, "I'd like you to meet Serafina Rosa Plum and Theodore Dante Plum," she announced proudly.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 23 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

I was shifting my weight side to side as I stood between the elevators and burgundy settee just a few feet from Stephanie's apartment door. It'd been a little over six hours since I'd been here last, but I was infinitely more confident with how this conversation would go. After processing the news of my unexpected fatherhood, working out some stress and frustration with my men, and drinking dull the memory of the cruel threats I'd leveled at Stephanie.

One of her friends had blearily answered my call to Stephanie as I was zipping through the empty New Jersey streets bathed in misty, predawn light. She'd promised to convey my request to speak to Stephanie and told me to wait for Stephanie where'd I'd most recently let my inner jackass out, her words. I was contemplating calling Stephanie again when I heard shuffling footsteps approach along with soft yet annoyed muttering. I took a moment to observe the changes in Stephanie's physique I was too distracted to notice earlier, the slightly increased flaring of her hips and exaggerated cup size, further evidence of our children.

I extended a to go cup of coffee to a rumpled and slightly annoyed Stephanie the instant she came into sight, hoping a little gesture of goodwill would convey my repentance and intent to start anew. She eyed the coffee trepidatiously with puffy, red rimmed eyes before hesitantly accepting it, careful to keep her fingers from accidentally brushing mine. She breathed in the aroma, letting her eyes fall shut as she sank into the settee before taking a large gulp and humming lightly with satisfaction to herself as she settled back into her seat, snuggled in what I recognized as a silk w*ish bathrobe. I may have done some drunken googling once Lester and Tank left my apartment.

I scratched at the slightly overgrown stubble peppering my jaw and had just convinced myself to leap into my rehearsed apology when I was brought out of my thoughts by Stephanie's slightly scratchy voice, "do you know what time it is Ranger?" She sounded weary, but I was sure it would have been a caustic question had she possessed the energy.

"0552," I replied slowly after checking my chunky tactical watch.

"On a Saturday morning. _Saturday_ morning, Ranger?" she replied incredulously, enunciating every word. "As if I wasn't pissed of at you already," she mumbled under her breath before sneaking another luxuriating sip. "What's with the bruises?" she asked, her head tilted as she flitted her gaze overly split lip, black eye and bruised jaw.

"Turns out you weren't the only person who wanted to express their disappointment in how I've handled things over the past 19 months," I replied dryly.

"Long line?" she asked, her tone bordering on gleeful and eyes twinkling with mischief.

I nodded once in response before beginning my apology. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I was… surprised by the news and I don't handle being thrown off kilter well," I offered, fighting my urge to hide my emotions behind a blank mask and letting her see the contrition in my eyes.

"Sorry for what exactly? You said a lot of things," she added crisply, her fingers slotted with each other as she gripped her cup tightly, wisps of curly hair that had managed to escape her pony tail framing her face.

I took a deep breath before beginning my explanation, steeling myself to always uncomfortable task of admitting failure. "For implying our twins weren't mine, for blaming you for keeping them from me… for threatening you." I let the heavy silence fill the air between us as a few tears slipped from Stephanie's eyes in relief. I raised an arm to comfort her, but at her slight recoil, my hand fell heavily back to my side. After a few moments, I continued to the share what I wanted my role in our children's lives to be, news I was worried she'd accept as tactfully as I'd handled her announcement yesterday. "I've thought about this a lot, since our conversation and before when we were still together, and I want to be in our kids' lives. I will be in our kids' lives," I promised fervently.

"What!" Stephanie whisper shouted frantically, fear once again impinging on her usually warm tenor of her tone, the manicured tips of her fingers turning white from the effort of gripping her coffee cup.

"Ultimately I just want what _you_ want. I want what's best for our children," I explained plainly, crouching down in front of her so that I was looking slightly up at her rheumy, azure eyes, my elbows resting on my bent knees. "And that includes _both_ of their parents."

Stephanie responded by shaking her head side to side, whipping her hair around wildly while she waited for her words to catch up to her visceral reaction to my intentions. "Ranger, no! You don't have to give up your life to play the hero or the good guy. Parenthood isn't for everyone and… tha-that's okay, really," she said, eyes wide and voice crackling. She interrupted me as I opened my mouth to respond, "Ranger, it's better to respect your limitations than to… to b-burden yourself by forcing something insincere," she added stiffly, more tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Ba-Stephanie, that's not-" I began in earnest when she interjected.

"It's okay, Ranger, really. No guilt or blame or-" her voice faltered as I gently grasped her hands, placing her coffee cup on the floor at her slipper clad feet.

"I know I've said things that are incongruous with having a family in the past, but that's just what it was, in the past. And what I want now, what I've wanted for a while, is you. _All_ of you. I want my family," I shared, attempting to convey my sincerity with my gaze.

"Ranger," Stephanie replied softly, "I… a year ago if you'd have said that I would've welcomed you into out lives, but now… things are different, and I'm not sure I trust you when you say this is what you want or that you being our twins' lives would be in their best interests. It's just too important a decision for me to make on a whim because of a handful of eloquent words," she explained, the turmoil visible in her eyes as she squeezed my hand for a moment in an effort to soften the blow of her words.

"I know I have quite a ways to go to win back your trust, but I thought I'd start with strong opening salvo," I responded, a slight grin dancing across my features. "Stephanie Plum," I stated in a soft yet gravelly voice, "will you marry me?"

I hadn't really thought about her reaction much. I'd expected it to be a yes, but I hadn't wasted any time trying to predict her mode of delivery. What I hadn't expected for her to stare at me with a vacant, bewildered visage. Or for her to not respond with any words whatsoever. After several minutes of fraught silence, I decided to brave her reply, "Stephanie?"

"I'm wearing sweatpants," she announced, it seemed to be for her own edification as much as mine, her nose crinkled in confusion.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 03 AUG 2013 (22 Months Ago)**

A chirping noise drew my attention from my preparations to my cheap, burner cellphone. "Bombshell's on her way up," I read the text message Lester had just sent me. I took one last look around the roof which had a corner covered in cushions, a canopy of zigzagging bistro lights, and a picnic basket full of goodies courtesy of Ella. I rushed back downstairs to Stephanie's apartment before she got upstairs. Luckily, she steadfastly refused to use the stairs and her apartment building's elevator was almost as rickety as most of its inhabitants.

I was relaxing on her lumpy, vanilla sofa, pretending to research the Ramos family on my laptop when she walked into the apartment. When the news of an arrest warrant for me spread through Trenton a few days ago, Stephanie was the only person to express genuine concern for me. Sure, Tank, Lester and Bobby, my business partners at RangerMan called, but they were more interested in hearing my version of the events, what resources I'd need to clear my name and sharing intel. We'd done enough missions together for them to know that being framed for the murder of some asshat attempting diversify from arms dealing to drug trafficking wasn't going to put me on the sidelines for long. After hearing Stephanie's voicemail hesitantly asking me if I was okay, I couldn't stay away. I'd asked her to do some surveillance for me and after a few late night meetings to review her results, I'd taken sanctuary at her apartment and just moved in. The close quarters and intensity of the situation had upped the ante on our flirtatious banter and I'd gotten a glimpse of how fulfilling and right being with Stephanie would be. Unfortunately, the timing wasn't great, but out lives tended to be a bit more… eventful than most, and I decided to go for it. That impulsive decision was the cause of the teetering feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Hey Ranger," Stephanie greeted me, dropping down near me on the arm of the sofa while looking through a handful of mail, "so, any new leads?" she queried after tossing the mail onto the edge of the glass coffee table which was partially covered with the efforts of my investigation.

"I was wondering if you'd do me a favor?" I asked, looking over to find her smiling encouragingly down at me.

"Of course. Want me to stake out Alexander Ramos' house in Deal again?" she teased as I shot her a raised eyebrow eliciting a giggle and eye roll. I'd asked her to stake our Ramos yesterday and she ended up standing in as his drinking buddy when he escaped from his smothering sons to Stephanie's idling vehicle and paid her to deliver him to a nearby dive bar.

"Have dinner with me?" I coaxed with a small smile playing on my lips.

Stephanie tilted her head in confusion, her curly ponytail swaying with her movements. "Ranger, we uh… live together, sorta," she rushed to add the last part, realizing the domesticated implication of her words as her cheeks were were highlighted with a rouge blush.

"True," I replied with an amused smirk.

"We've been eating dinner together since you started staying here," she added sheepishly.

I shifted on the sofa to hold her gaze and lay my hand behind her, strumming my thumb against the small of her back, before revisiting my request. "Stephanie Michele Plum, would you like to go on a date with me?"

Stephanie's crisp blue eyes widened slightly at my question before she shook her head as if trying to clear the static before she replied, her voice brimming with excitement, "Yes!" She excitedly leaned over to give me an exuberant hug and ended up toppling us both flat onto the sofa. "Oops!" she added, clearly unrepentant as she placed her hands on my chest to lift herself up, "when do you wanna go?"

"Now," I announced, full out smiling at her response as my arms snaked instinctively around her waist.

"Now? But… I need time to primp and blow out my hair and do other girly things… like squeal," she explained in a slightly manic rush.

"I'm a wanted man, Babe, I can't really take you out to dinner and a movie," I joked as I looked up at her from my relaxed position.

"I think I'd prefer dancing to a movie," she shrugged but was unable to mask the huge smile spanning her face.

"I can make dancing happen," I vowed with teasing solemnity and a wink.

"Okay," she replied, pushing against my chest to get me to loosen my grip on her waist, "let me go!" she admonished with a giggle. "I need to get ready," she explained, as I reluctantly relinquished my hold, allowing her to get to her feet, "I've got a hot date!" she added sassily before flouncing excitedly off to her bedroom.

"You think I'm hot?" I needled as she shut her door with a snort. Yup, I thought smugly to myself as I folded my arms behind my head and tried to relax into the dropping couch cushions, she thinks I'm hot.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 23 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"I'm wearing sweatpants," I replied, feeling like I was trapped in some sort of a haze, unable to form a more articulate response.

"So is that… is that a _yes_?" Ranger questioned, looking up at me with cautious hope.

Cautious hope that I was powerless to preserve as I started giggling uncontrollably. I was finding the humor in everything Ranger, it seemed. Ranger finding it appropriate to wake me up at the ass-crack of dawn to continue one of the most unsettling conversations I'd ever had, Ranger wanting to want to be a part of my little family, and especially Ranger thinking I'd even remotely entertain the idea of marrying him. Hilarious. "That's a _no_ , Ranger," I chortled acerbically, freeing my hands from his grip to clutch my stomach, "a hell no." I censured my laughter abruptly at the fact that Ranger hadn't managed to school his affronted and adorably confused expression. An adorably confused expression that was very reminiscent of Theo when rousted from a deep, drooling sleep and pulled at my heart.

"Why?" Ranger queried sincerely, "I thought you'd want that?"

"Ranger," I reached out tentatively to take a hold of his hand resting on the plush, burgundy settee cushion next to my thigh, "I'm sorry if that isn't what you want to hear, but marriage isn't a magic bandaid and it doesn't change the face that I'm not sure you actively being in our twins' lives is in their best interest… or yours," I explained softly.

"But I'm committed," he grit out, frustration vibrating through his frame, "I'm committed to being a dad and to you. You know how I feel about you."

"I don't… let's just focus on the twins, okay?" I replied, caught of guard by his slightly pleading sincerity. I continued at Ranger's tight nod, "I did want you to be involved… with the twins, but that was so long ago and borne of my selfishness. You've got your life in Miami, and I think it's time you went back to it."

"No! I've just been treading water in Miami. What I want is here. You're here, our kids are here, my life is here," he countered vehemently.

"This isn't about you, this is about _them_. And like I said, I'm not convinced having you in their lives is in their best interest, especially after last night," I retorted hotly, leaving us both fuming silently with anger as we sized each other up.

Ranger stood back up, hands crossed in front of his broad chest as he glowered down at me. "Do you really hate me that much?"

"Wha-" I began before Ranger continued his diatribe.

"Do you hate me enough to take our children away from me?" he bit out angrily though I could see past the veneer of fury to genuine distress at how far apart we'd drifted.

I was surprised by his accusation and unsure at this point if my decision wasn't partially based on outdated judgments that no longer held merit but I was adhering to because it simplified my life. I wasn't generally the petty kind, but could my anger at his outburst last night and the months of being ignored have hardened me from accepting that Ranger could be honest in his proclaimed desire to be a part of the raspberries lives? It was way too early for this level of introspection, I thought to myself, after being unable to swiftly assure myself of my true motives.

"Stephanie, this isn't over. I'm going to be in their lives and we're just going to have to find a way to make this work," he added, resigned to my dissent. "I'll need about two weeks, but I'll be back and I expect to meet them," he decreed brusquely before softening his tone at my alarmed look. "Ba-Steph, I know I hurt you and tarnished your trust in me, but we were good friends once and you know the type of man that I am. You know I wouldn't fight this hard to be in our children's lives unless I wanted to be and knew I could make parenthood a priority." At my reluctant nod he relaxed slightly before returning my gesture. "Thank you," he said softly, snapping his mouth shut before something else spilled out as he sent a wistful glance towards the hallway in the direction of my apartment.

He wanted to ask about the twins, to meet them. I wasn't yet comfortable with the thought of his dominating presence being in my space, but I could offer him a little something. Something I'd intended to share with him yesterday but hadn't gotten around to because our conversation took a contentious path.

"R-Ranger," I called out, snapping his attention to me as he took a step backwards to reach the elevator call button, "Serafina Rosa Plum and Theodore Dante Plum… their names," I offered, taking in the slight surprise and recognition in his whiskey eyes as he whispered their names to himself under his breath.

"Plum huh?" he quipped lightly with a slight smirk, turning around to face the opening elevator doors, "I'm going to have to do something about that." He turned around to face me once he'd entered the elevator and mouthed thank you just as the sliding, reflective doors ended our exchange.

I tossed my empty coffee cup into a trash can and ambled numbly back to my apartment, replaying our conversation and wondering if Calista and Victoria, both of whom had insisted on spending the night after coming to help calm me down, were awake. I opened the door to find them both pattering around my kitchen and preparing a combination of breakfast and comfort foods.

"Steph!" Victoria exclaimed anxiously, looking up from a tray of cinnamon rolls she'd just smothered in icing, "how'd it go?" Her question pulled Calista's attention from the scrambled eggs she was stirring.

"He proposed," I deadpanned without hesitation and plucked a cinnamon roll to munch on as Calista and Victoria recovered from their stunned states.

* * *

 **Calista Cooper POV - 23 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"So he asked you to marry him and your response was to comment on your attire?" I asked incredulously as I pulled my legs up under myself as I relaxed into the blue suede sofa with my cup of steaming coffee. We'd been stuck on this part of Stephanie and Ranger's exchange for the past ten minutes during which we'd relocated from the kitchen to the living room with our breakfasts.

"We've been over this! He asked her to marry him and Steph said sweatpants," Victoria snapped around a yawn, exhausted with my inability to move on from this, "sure it's not as conventional a response as yes or no, but it got her point across, Now," Victoria huffed while rolling her glacial blue eyes, "what did he say about the raspberries?"

"He uh… he wants to be in their lives… our lives," Stephanie answered hesitantly, fidgeting with the edge of her robe. After pounding two cinnamon rolls citing stress as the reason, she'd just silently curled up onto the wingback chair in the living room and explained what shall henceforth be known as the worst proposal ever.

"What about the custody suit?" I asked, mentally cataloguing attorneys I knew in Newark who would be best prepared to take on whatever powerhouse counselor RangeMan had on retainer.

"He apologized, well he _tried_ to apologize. But he did promise that he wouldn't try to take the twins," she reassured us, knowing that Victoria and I shared her fears and last night's turbulent sleep.

"I'm glad he came to his senses, although the fact that he had that reaction in the first place still pisses me off," I commented with a relieved sigh.

"What else did tall, dark and douchey have to say for himself?" Victoria snarked.

Stephanie gulped the last of her coffee and placed her red and white Rutgers mug on the carpet near her slippered feet. "He's adamant about being in the twins' lives… my life," she shared with a wince.

Victoria snorted before responding, "Seriously? Won't he just get bored? I mean, I love Serafina and Theo, but I doubt diaper duty and Mommy and Me are gonna hold his interest for long."

"Exactly! I tried to explain to him that this was a longterm-no, life-term commitment and that we needed to do what was best for the twins, even if that was not having him in their lives, but he's determined," Stephanie huffed, "he's even planning on moving back from Miami."

I shared a look with Victoria, recognizing that she was equally as surprised with Ranger's vehemence despite Lester letting me know that was what Ranger was leaning towards. We figured last night's hostility was coming from a place of shock but in the cold light of day, neither of us expected him to actively fit fatherhood into his life. I'd been far too livid when I called Lester last night to give him a cliffsnotes version of what Ranger'd said to Stephanie to consider things from Ranger's perspective. It never really occurred to me that he'd embrace the news of being a father and the changes it would demand of him. "Steph, I think he really is serious about being a father," I explained softly while fiddling nervously with my plaid pajama pants, knowing how difficult this news would be for her to accept.

"Ugh, I know," Stephanie groused, shoving an unruly lock of curly hair back behind her ear, "he's crazy stubborn when he makes his mind up about something, right or wrong."

"Steph," Victoria prompted, "this is more than him being stubborn or wanting to win."

"Yeah, this is happening and I don't think there'll be time for a sojourn to denial land," I added gently.

Stephanie slumped into her seat, letting her head fall back and rest against the back of her chair. "I'm not sure about Ranger being in my raspberries' lives," she finally admitted softly. Victoria and I waited for her to explain. "I don't know that I trust him to stay for them or to stay for the right reasons and after yesterday… he was just so petty and impetuous."

"I think you need to take a few days to decide what you want from Ranger as a co-parent and what your comfortable with," I suggested, circling a finger around the rim of my coffee cup.

"Keep the twins in mind," Victoria added thoughtfully. "Obviously Ranger's reaction yesterday was less than ideal, but once he got over the shock, he did the right thing. Well, aside from the proposal, let's just chalk that up to male stupidity," she never could stop herself from adding a little sass.

"I know he tried to make amends for yesterday, but it doesn't change that his initial reaction was to lash out. Is _that_ what Theo and Serafina deserve?" Stephanie tossed back, understandably not appreciating alternative opinions.

"You're right, but if you just write him off for that you're being petty too," I implored, continuing at her scoff and rolled eyes, "just because Ranger made mistakes with your relationship doesn't mean he'll be a crap dad."

"And he's just as capable of change as anyone else," Victoria added with a shrug, the wide neck of her w*ish sleep shirt slipping down her shoulder. "You changed your life to make the twins a priority and not sacrifice," she added pointedly.

A contemplative silence fell over us as we considered the changes that might befall Stephanie's life. I really wish Ranger'd reached out or thought to return to New Jersey for Stephanie because any attempt he made to rekindle their relationship, and I'd been assured by Lester that he would, Stephanie would find insincere and prompted by the existence of their children versus their love or bond. Although that was a non-issue until Ranger could earn back Stephanie's trust, and I was sure that would prove to be a monumental effort.

"I've been a single mother since day one. I know I've had a lot of help, but I like my little family of three and I don't know how to make room for Ranger," Stephanie broke the silence in a small, defeated tone. "I don't know if I even _want_ to."

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 21 JUN 2014 (11 Months Ago)**

I couldn't stop staring at their small, snoozing bodies, their chests rising and falling as they dreamt. I'd gotten home from the hospital today and had basically spent the entire time watching them. Serafina and Theo Plum, my perfect raspberries.

Currently they were laying in the white, double bassinet I'd set up next to my bed, nestled under the crocheted baby blanket Grandma Mazur had given me. Theo was snoring lightly with his arms reached upwards while Serafina kept hers near her side under the pink blanket I'd swaddled her in. I was a swaddling savant thanks to evening Ella spent teaching me the art of the burrito.

I'd spent a fair amount of my stay at the hospital thinking about Ranger. I was sure I'd left him firmly in my past until my water broke and I was pelted with an uncontrollable urge to hear his voice and have him there with me. What's worse is that even after all this time, after the abrupt breakup and the unanswered voicemails and emails, I was still disappointed that he didn't come through for me. I guess I expected a little too much of my dark knight.

The problem was that all the disappointment I felt at Ranger's actions was festering into anger. And I really didn't want that. I'd just had one of the most incredible, life affirming experiences of my life and I refused to let my feelings towards Ranger tarnish it.

That decision led to me taking Lula's advice. While the bulk of Lula's advice focused on spandex clothing, Via Spiga heels, and using your hair as an accessory, she did mention a pretty decent breakup remedy once. So during the twins' second nap of the day, I gathered a few picture's I'd secretly held on to of Ranger and I and burned them while listening to Adele. Apparently Adele was about 80% of the entire process. I opted to ignore the part about getting a fabulous makeover because between my move to Newark, starting w*ish and having babies, I'd pretty much rocked the hell out of that part of Lula's breakup routine.

I couldn't say for sure, but I think I'd manage to leave the bulk of my anger and disappointment at Ranger in the past where it belonged to make more room for other things, better things… things that had to do with the two perfect little beings I was watching over, my hands placed protectively on them.

I'd always been protective over people I cared for and loved. It's why I defended Grandma Mazur no matter how many times she accidentally pried open a closed casket to evaluate the mortician's handiwork, it's why I had a candid conversation with Lester when I realized how truly smitten Calista was despite her inability to admit it, and it was why I knew from the first moment the nurse placed Theo and Serafina in my arms that I would do anything to protect them.

And to do that, I needed to let go of Ranger.

* * *

 **Camilla Manoso POV - 23 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Dance with me," I said to Carlos before hooking my arm through his black suit clad arm and dragging him towards the dance floor. He'd spent the wedding being even more stoic and contemplative than usual. I wasn't even certain he noticed how beautiful and ethereal Daniella looked.

After the ceremony in the gardens and the seemingly endless photo session that took us to the various photogenic locations boasted by the arboretum, we'd and settled into the glass-walled ballroom for the reception. The entire evening had been magical and I'd hadn't seen Daniella this truly happy since she and Olivia brought their daughter Eva home.

"So," I prompted him as we swayed back and forth under the "Calista, Lester's date, mentioned something about you stopping by Stephanie's apartment last night… and this morning." When he offered no explanation I decided to suss out whether he knew about Theo and Serafina. "What did you talk about?"

"I know about… I know I'm a father," he eventually replied, his tone stiff yet soft enough that we couldn't be overheard.

"Congratulations!" I replied just as softly, stretching up to give him a hug.

"Thanks," he replied, looking down at me with a shuttered look. I suppose it was too soon for him to really have an opinion on the entire situation.

"So, I have another niece and nephew to spoil, huh?" I'd gushed a little about how excited I was to Lester last night, but he'd sworn me to secrecy until Carlos had time to navigate the situation. He also told me how Stephanie and Carlos met during her time working for RangeMan.

"Cam, you and Steph are friends?" he asked me, looking down at me with an entirely too serious look on his face given the festive ambiance. I gave him a quick nod, brow furrowed. "What are they like? Theodore and Serafina?"

"Didn't you see them?" I asked, completely confused. He'd gone to visit Stephanie twice since I'd seen him last night, learned he was a father and hadn't seen them?

"She… the situation deteriorated before I could," he explained tersely.

" _The situation deteriorated?_ " I questioned skeptically, there was definitely something he was keeping from me. "Carlos, _what_ did you do?" I bit out, jabbing him in the shoulder with a pointed, freshly manicured finger.

"Cam! Stop that," he grumbled, trapping my hand in his own and holding it in place against his shoulder as he continued to sway me about the dance floor while deftly moving me away from our reveling family members. "I didn't expect for her to tell me that we had kids."

The guarded look on his face had a pit of nervousness unfurling in my stomach. I loved my brother, admired him deeply, but that didn't alter the fact that he was crap at communicating. "Carlos, what happened? I know Steph and I've talked to her about you… well about the twins' father, and I just don't understand why she wouldn't let you see-"

"I threatened her with a custody suit," he blurted out.

"You _what_!" I exclaimed, oblivious to the fact that I was drawing the surprised and annoyed attention of those around us.

Carlos grabbed me by my upper arm and forcibly led me out of the ballroom towards a copse decorated with crisscrossing strings of bistro lights. "It was a reaction and I went back this morning to apologize," he explained harshly, annoyed that he was having to explain his actions to his nosy little sister.

"Carlos!" I replied, shoving him as I imagined just how hurt and scared Stephanie would be by Carlos' threat. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was pissed she didn't tell me when so many people in my life knew," he replied, scrubbing a hand through his slightly overgrown scruff before tugging at his tie. "I even tried to make it right, but you know Stephanie, never does what you expect," he groused.

"What could you possibly have done that would make you dumping her, not returning her calls, and then threatening to take her kids away right?" I snarked, crossing my arms across the beaded bodice of my light blue bridesmaid dress.

"I asked her to marry me," he offered simply, shrugging his shoulders slightly as the lights cast shadows over his closed off features. The lack of an excited announcement from Stephanie and the occasional wary look Calista shot Carlos were evidence enough that Stephanie's turned down his ridiculous proposal.

My brother was an idiot, I thought as I twirled around and headed back inside, the hem of my dress fanning around me, a badass idiot.

"Cam, I need… can you help me with her. I can't lose any of them," Carlos called out to my back. His voice was as close to pleading as I'd ever heard and it immediately froze my resolve to let him stew.

"Stephanie's open and friendly, but slow to genuinely trust, especially with her raspberries. Find a way to earn her trust back," I offered, turning my head to the side before continuing on my way. "And _definitely_ no more proposals… at least not until you know what her answer will be."

* * *

A/N: So that's what I decided to do about the Rachel/Julie. I wanted Ranger to have that particular type of distrust in his background and while Julie was a lovely character, I decided to write her out of this one. I hope you liked it!


	16. Chapter 12

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and been reading along! And thanks to JenniferK who found a typo in one of the flashback dates in Chapter 8. And heads up - this has not been edited, not even a little.

***** Also, the lack of editing led to me accidentally leaving out the scene with Ranger and Stephanie's conversation in the chapter I posted yesterday (oops!). I've updated it and just wanted to thank all of the reviewers who mentioned they wanted to read how that conversation went - without your comments, I never would've realized I accidentally skipped including that scene. Thanks and I hope you enjoy it! *****

Sorry for the longer delay on this chapter and I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. Happy New Year!

* * *

 **Part II. "I WISH on a star that somewhere you are thinking of me too." - Selena, "Dreaming of You"**

 **Chapter 12**

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 24 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"So, how are things going with Dashing Duncan?" I asked Victoria teasingly as I unpacked a box of Theo's adorable baby clothes. The Merry Men were taking care of all the heaving lifting and handled moving things from my apartment while Calista, Victoria and I had been unpacking and setting things up.

"Are you guys ever going to stop with the nicknames?" Victoria huffed while making Serafina's bed with her new Wonder Woman linen. I'd decided to trade in the zoo-themed nursery for a super hero inspired one, complete with vintage looking posters and plush his and her superhero mobiles.

"Nope," Calista sassed, "there are just way too many awesome words that start with d."

"Fine," Victoria groused good-naturedly, "and things are going well. The only weird thing is when we're working together, it's kinda hard not to blur lines."

"Mhmm," I commented, finally reaching the bottom of my box just when Calista opened yet another box of baby clothes.

"Seriously Steph! How many boxes of clothes do the raspberries have? They're like pocket-sized?" Calista huffed while she heaved the box towards me.

"That's why they're so many clothes. Everything is mini and adorable and I can't help buying it," I explained with a shrug as I assessed the closet space for the best way to maximize its potential. "And a lot of this is from you two," I pointed out.

"You're right," Calista relented before bending down to tousle Serafina's hair in the corner of the room where she and Theo were using the edge of their playpen to hold themselves up and watch what all the fuss was about, "you do look super cute in all of the clothes we've gotten you, don't you?" she cooed.

"Baby talk? Really Cal?" Lester snorted, entering the nursery with a large, flat box labeled Pregnancy Pics.

"Les, I've heard you have entire conversations with my raspberries in baby talk," I replied, causing Calista to smirk at him.

"Come on, Beautiful," he groaned, shaking his head at the perceived betrayal. "Where do you want this one?"

"Oooh, over here!" Calista replied excitedly. "Finally, we can put up pictures! Empty walls make sad," she pouted as Lester laid the box down next Calista and opened it with a knife he retrieved from his boot. He handed the large picture frames to Calista who freed them from the protective tissue paper wrapping and leaned them against the wall.

"You need help hanging them?" Lester asked.

"Do you have a hammer hidden somewhere in those cargo pants as well?" Victoria snarked without lookup up from fitting Avengers linens in Theo's crib.

"I'd love to answer that, cause I'm a sharer," Lester retorted lasciviously with a wink, "but I wouldn't want to make Dashing Duncan jealous."

"Hey!" Calista exclaimed as I tossed a stuffed elephant at Lester, "only we're allowed to call him that," she huffed, emphasizing her statement by shoving his shoulder.

"That was actually pretty tame for what I'd expect his response to be," I muttered to Victoria, "guess he's finally housebroken."

Victoria gave Lester and Calista an assessing glance before looking back at me, "I'm pretty sure the term is whipped, not housebroken."

"Where should we put this?" Calista asked pointedly, talking over Lester's outrage at being considered either housebroken or whipped. She was holding up one of my pregnancy photoshoot prints. It was a black and white image taken at the beach with the sun setting over gentles waves in the background and a silhouette of me, my hands bracketing my stomach in a grecian, fly-away, floor length dress with my curls tousled by the wind. The image brought a smile to my lips as I remembered the reality of circumstances under which the image was taken and how deceptively peaceful the image was. The day was frighteningly windy and chilly and I spent a few hours freezing as my hair became increasingly tangled and bird's nest-like. I'd finally called it a day when it started to drizzle lightly.

"Damn Beautiful, you are one hot mama!" Lester commented as he checked out the photo.

Calista just rolled her eyes and addressed Victoria and I, "so, thoughts on where this should go?" she asked, looking around at the blank, light mint walls.

"I vote for between the windows opposite the cribs," Victoria chimed in, "then we can put up the vintage superhero posters on the walls the cribs are up against.

After Calista and I agreed, Lester headed to the far wall with Calista, mumbling lightly to each other. "Do you think you'd go up a couple cup sizes if w-you got pregnant?" Lester asked with forced innocence, oblivious to Victoria and I eavesdropping with shocked expressions.

"Yeah, imma need a big ass rock before there is any talk of pregnancy," Calista snorted, waving her bare left hand in his face. Lester grabbed her hand and kissed it just as Tank entered the nursery with yet another box of baby clothes.

"Pizza's here," he announced, nodding his head towards the hallway.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 25 OCT 2013 (19 Months Ago)**

I slumped into my blue, suede sofa as I looked around at my new apartment, surrounded by boxes. I huffed out a breath of relief that I'd taken yet another step towards the plan I'd made during my birthday weekend.

Step one: cut back on hours at RangeMan to focus on designing and building up my own business. Step two: get the hell out of Trenton. Done and done. Now I was onto step three: get financing for my boutique and open up a store front. Oh and find a manufacturer to turn my designs into reality.

I took a sip from my water bottle, currently the only edible thing in the entire apartment. Well, aside from the emergency pack of tasty cakes that's in one of these boxes.

I had been surprisingly comfortable with moving from Trenton. I thought I'd be sadder walking away from everything in Trenton, my history with Ranger, but mostly, I was just relieved. Sure, I'd still have to see him at work with his new lady friend, Diamond, and his cold indifference towards me chapped, but at least now I was one the active side of things.

I was actively choosing this versus letting Ranger call all the shots. He got to choose to finally give us a chance and he decided we were done. Well screw that, I thought indignantly, it's my turn to choose now and I choose me. I choose to pursue my dream while he goes off following his own and playing Rambo. I pushed away the pang of hurt and rejection and focused back on the present.

I levered myself out of the comfortable sofa, a new purchase I'd made to celebrate my brand new start, and headed to the second, smaller bedroom. There was a drawing desk shoved up against the wall with the windows, plenty of fresh light to fuel my creativity. I grabbed my keys and headed to the boxes lined up in the corner, boxes of sketch notebooks, drawing pencils, and material swatches I'd accumulated over the years as I quietly worked towards my secret goals.

Goals that I was finally prepared to pursue.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 24 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Lunch break, finally," Victoria announced dramatically, leading the way to the kitchen.

"Ready for some grub?," I asked, scooping Theo up while Tank grabbed Serafina and we joined an assortment of Merry Men, Victoria and Calista who were standing around the kitchen and breakfast nook with pizza on paper plates and bottles of water. I settled the twins into their high chairs with plates of sweet potato puree that, judging from their smiles which highlighted the few teeth they had, they were very excited about.

"Yum, yum, yum!" Serafina squealed as she dipped a finger eagerly into her meal and smeared it all over her chin while feeding herself. It was the third word she'd learned and she'd saved debuting it till Ella brought over a homemade, baby friendly pasta salad. Apparently my mushy food inventions weren't worthy.

"Bomber, can we have a word," Tank said, halting my path to the pizza.

"Sure," I replied warily as he and Lester led me past the curtain wall to the dining room. We sat down at the cappuccino wooden table that was delivered in the morning. "Is everything okay? You're being weird…"

"We just wanted to talk to you about Ranger," Lester explained cautiously, paying close attention to my expression to gauge my reaction.

"Guys, I'm not sure now is the best time," I hedged. Between Ranger's apology and declaration that he would be moving back and a part of my raspberries' lives and my friends' advice, I needed some time before I could accommodate yet another point of view.

"Stephanie, just hear us out, please," Lester implored, pleading with his warm, green eyes.

I reluctantly nodded and Tank decided jumped right in with what seemed like a slightly rehearsed pitch, not wanting to risk me changing my mind. "Bomber, we know Ranger's not the best at communicating."

I snorted and rolled my eyes, "pot meet kettle."

"Well, we just wanted to make a few things clear," Tank continued, ignoring me.

"I know that things have been rocky between you and Ranger, but you know that deep down he really cares about you," Lester explained, his expression sincere mixed with discomfort.

I crossed my arms across my chest and decided to just let them say whatever they needed to without arguing. I took a small amount of pleasure knowing my lack of reaction would make them even more uncomfortable with this already awkward conversation.

"He knows he handled things badly when he broke up with you before his mission and not reaching out to you since he's been back, but all of that was really hard on him too," Lester added solemnly, "he misses you and thinks about you all the time."

I just gave him a look that conveyed I felt that Ranger'd brought all of that on himself.

"Ranger's dead serious about moving back to Trenton, being a Dad, and being in your life. You need to prepare yourself for that," Tank added.

"Yeah, I kinda got that," I replied stiffly. "I think how we feel with respect to each other is unimportant as long as we can be cordial and just focus on my-our," I corrected myself with a grimace, "our raspberries."

"And you're comfortable with that?" Lester asked cautiously, surprised by the lack of argument from me.

"I think it'll be an adjustment for us both, but I'm willing to try if he is," I replied. Victoria and Calista had made some really good points when we discussed Ranger's proposal. "I don't necessarily trust Ranger, but I do want to give him a chance to be a father, I owe it to Theo and Serafina."

"Kids do better with both parents involved," Tank added with a nod.

Lester snorted at Tank, earning a glare, "seriously? You did research?"

"Like you didn't call Calista this morning asking for help with this conversation," Tank retorted dryly, causing Lester to school his features.

"One of the concerns I have is the twins only having Ranger part-time. I know his life is busy, but everyone's life is busy and kids shouldn't really have to understand why they're low on the totem pole of their father's priorities," I explained, looking up at Tank and Lester's blank expressions. "I don't want him to get bored, decide he wants a more exciting life and forget about them for months on end."

"Beautiful, I really don't think Ranger would do that. He really wants to be here for them and you," Lester offered.

"You don't know that, Les," I dismissed his platitude. "Children aren't accessories, they're a commitment and responsibility… and an honor."

"Ranger knows that, he wants this," Tank responded solemnly.

I huffed out a breath before replying, "the Ranger I knew years ago, the one who I loved, he'd recognize what an honor it was to raise our twins. But this guy, the guy who dumped me without any discussion and was MIA for years," I explained, shaking my head, "I'm not sure about him and can't not be sure when it comes to our raspberries."

Lester nodded and said "we're glad you're willing to give Ranger a chance."

"I know he's not great with relationships with women," Tank said, nodding slightly at me, "but that doesn't mean it'll feed into how he approaches fatherhood. None of us are great with the ladies, but we love the crap out of those two."

"Speak for yourself," Lester snarked, "I'm great with the ladies," he added with a wink.

"I will do my best to be open and give Ranger a chance, but so far, all I've seen is anger, a bruised ego and a sense of obligation," I said, "and I am not impressed."

"About that," Tank added, shooting Lester a worried glance, "because your conversations with Ranger have been contentious, he doesn't know that you're willing to give him a chance and…" Apparently Tank wasn't prepared to finish his thought and he glared at Lester until he took over for him.

"What the big guy is trying to say is that Ranger still thinks that you don't want him involved in the twins' lives and you're determined to keep him away," Lester explained.

"And Mr. I-like-to-be-in-control-of-everything is freaking out a little," I sassed with a eye roll.

"Mhmm. Although his version freaking out is just to be a little more growly than usual," Lester added. "And we don't want to send him back to Miami like a bear, so we were hoping you could talk to him," he said, his verdant eyes pleading. I figured he'd been on the bad end of Ranger's temper enough times over the years to know how awful a growly Ranger could be.

"RangeMan prides itself on it's retention of employees and we don't want Ranger's attitude to up the turnover rate," Tank added, clearly annoyed with the situation.

"Sure," I groaned, "I'll leave him yet another message once I'm done with unpacking today," I offered, using both of my palms to push myself up and away from the table.

"Now, Beautiful. We need you to talk to him now," Lester added, grabbing my wrist to keep me from running away, "right now."

"Okay," I said slowly, fishing my cell phone out of my pocket.

"In person, little girl," Tank said, halting my motions.

"What," I growled, annoyed that they'd let him into my new house without my consent.

"No, he's not here here," Lester corrected my misconceptions quickly at my outrage, "he's outside in a car."

I smiled slightly at the image of Ranger waiting patiently in the car, wondering if they'd cracked a window for him before my ire returned. "Right now? Seriously guys!" I exclaimed, gesturing at my moving attire. I was wearing partially threadbare jean shorts and a hot pink w*sh burnout tank top with my hair braided messily. "How is it fair that the past two times we've seen each other, he's been GQ-ed out in all black and I'm frumpy with sweatpants and bedhead?"

Lester smirked at my outburst, "I heard about the infamous sweatpants." I glared at him, knowing Calista must've told him about my response to Ranger's proposal. Tank chose to ignore us and walked back towards the kitchen to get some lunch. I turned to head the front door when Lester reached out to stop me, "please don't tell him we had this little talk, Beautiful," Lester added quickly, squeezing my arm, "you know how he is about his privacy."

I nodded my acknowledgment, straightened my shoulders and headed for the door, hoping this conversation would go better than our previous two had gone.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 24 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

I'd been waiting in the car for the past hour, waiting for Stephanie to come out and talk to me. I'd convinced the guys to let me tag along only after I promised not to try to infringe on her space or antagonize her, jackasses. When I moved back up here, I was gonna schedule mat time with each one of these assholes. On the upside, it was perfect stakeout weather and I'd been able to surveil Stephanie's new neighborhood to be pleased with her choice, from a security perspective.

I took a quick swig of water and was about to get out to stretch my legs when I saw Stephanie shuffle reluctantly out of her front door in some short shorts and a well worn tank top. She walked down the front walk towards my car with oversized sunglasses shielding me from the furious and hurt glare she'd shot my way several times over the past few days.

"Ba-Steph," I greeted her with a nod with my elbow resting in the open window frame.

"Ranger," she shot back stiffly with a jerky nod of her own, stopping a few feet away from my car. "Well, the guys said you wanted to talk, so talk," she demanded after a few moments of silence.

"I think… well, the Tank and Lester explained that I need to be better at communicating with you, so I just wanted to fill you in on my plans," I said with some difficulty. I hated the concept of accountability inherent in relationships, it chafed of living at home and having to explain my every action to my overbearing and disapproving father, and aside from my previous dalliance with Stephanie, I'd pretty much managed to avoid it. "I'm moving back to Trenton," I said when it was clear from Stephanie's crossed arms and lack of interest that she wasn't going to reply.

"When?" Stephanie asked. I guess we were switching roles with me being chatty and her sticking to monosyllabic responses.

"A week should be enough to wrap things up in Miami," I replied. "And once I get back we need to have a conversation about how things are gong to work."

"What?"

Damn that one word answer thing was frustrating. "Stephanie, I want to be a part of our twins' lives and we need to figure out how that will work. We need a plan, Ba-Steph."

"Ranger, parenthood isn't really something you schedule or plan. It's not a take down, it's a lifestyle," Stephanie snapped, clearly annoyed. She huffed out a breath and fiddled with the end of her braid before speaking, "I want to give you a chance to be in Theo and Serafina's lives, but I need time to feel comfortable with you and trust you as a prominent figure in my-our children's lives."

"I understand, but we need to start somewhere," I replied softly. "Baby steps," I added with a slight smirk.

"Cute," she snarked. "I know we have a lot to discuss, but I just can't right now," she said, gesturing towards her house. "Besides, I need some more time to figure out what I'm comfortable with and you should take the time to decide what you want and exactly what you are willing to give."

"Babe-Steph, Steph," I corrected quickly, "you have to know that I'd do anything… give anything for you," I pleaded. I know I left harshly, but I still couldn't believe how far we'd fallen, how far I'd fallen. I used to be her best friend, greatest supported and safe place and now I was just a disappointment.

"All I care about is how seriously you take your relationship with my-our… our raspberries and all I know is what I see with my own two eyes. And what I saw is that you ran from our relationship without a backward glance or explanation and what I saw when you tried to break into my apartment a few nights ago was a man who's bruised ego eclipsed the news that he'd helped make two perfect, precious people," she explained with a strong, ringing voice causing my shame to rise.

"Stepha-," I tried to interject but stopped when she took a step forward and pointed at me.

"I'm affording you the benefit of the doubt and giving you a chance to get to know the twins within a restricted purview. And remember, _they_ are my priority, always. You want more? Then show me! Show me you deserve it, show me I can trust you with our children." With that proclamation, she turned around briskly and marched back up the walkway to her new front door.

"Thank you," I called out to her back, "and I will show you that you can trust me." Her slight misstep was the only indication that she'd heard my vow.

* * *

 **Lester Santos POV - 29 AUG 2013 (21 Months Ago)**

"All right men, pay up!" Tank's booming voice rang through the RangeMan break room as he collected his winnings from our bet on Ranger and Stephanie's relationship over a low hum of disgruntled mumbling.

Our staff tended to bet on anything gossip worthy and since Stephanie had joined, she'd featured in the majority of our wagers. The bet on when Ranger and Stephanie would finally give in and get together had been the most lucrative to date, followed closely by what contraband junk food Stephanie could sneak in each week. So far, the most impressive thing she'd managed to smuggle in for her mid-morning and afternoon sugar pick-me-ups were jumbo-sized pixy sticks that left her lips and tongue purple without her knowledge. Watching her try to blame the evidence on grape cough syrup was a definite highlight.

"Hey, how big was the pot on this one?" I directed at Slick, our resident bookie as I settled in with one of the club sandwiches Ella's left for us today.

"6k," Slick replied around bites of baked sweet potato fries, the closest thing to junk food Ella was allowed to make.

"Dammit! I was 5 days too late," Woody groused.

"Better luck next time," Slick snarked, "speaking of which, any takers on what the happy couple's first tiff will be about?"

"I've got 40 on Stephanie catching Ranger swapping her desserts and junk food for low fat, sugar free versions," Junior said, pulling a couple bills from his wallet and tossing them on the table near Slick's water bottle.

"50 on Ranger threatening to shoot Steph's Grandma Mazur for pinching his ass," Cal added.

"Screw that, I'd rather bet on their sex life," Vince interjected much to Tank's displeasure.

"It's just for fun," I replied to Tank's grunt and glare, "I've got $100 on Ranger having a sex-sprain in four… no, make it five days," sliding the requisite cash over to Slick.

"Nice," Slick muttered, making a quick note of my bet. "Any other takers?"

"No way," Hal said, his hands up as if to ward off Slick's question as he shuffled out of the break room.

"I'll take that action," Bobby said, "but I bet on two days from now. Did you see the way he was staring at her in the gym this morning?"

"Yeah," Vince chuckled, "I thought he was gonna order us all out to… uh… have some alone time with Bombshell."

"What about Stephanie?" Ranger asked stiffly from the doorway which he hopefully only recently occupied.

"Oh n-nothing," Vince stuttered, "we were just talking about her training, she's getting much better."

Ranger just glared at everyone for a few minutes, waiting the men out for one to break. I decided to step in at their blanched visages and trepidation.

"Yeah, she's even finally taken to the yoga stretching and toning regimen you designed for her," I added, "and those cute little spandex short-shorts she wears are looking even mor-oof," I grunted as Tank cuffed me in the back of the head and shot me a chastising glare.

"Santos," Ranger said warningly but without the expected threat of a sparring date on the mats. Ranger stalked to the fridge to get a water bottle as the rest of us sat and looked on in silence, waiting to see if he'd heard anymore of our conversation than he was letting on. Ranger took a long drink and paused on his way out of the break room. "And, incase you're interested, Steph does the same yoga routine I do, so we're safe from any unexpected injuries. But your concern is touching," he added dryly before leaving us all speechless.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 24 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

I'd gotten back to Miami and immediately started on my plans to move back to Trenton. I confirmed that Miguel Cervantes, my second in command here, was prepared to step up and got his opinion on the staff members I'd short-listed to be promoted to his position. I was currently on the phone with Ella as she tearily gushed about how excited she was about me moving back and making room in my life for my children, literally.

"How long will that take?" I asked.

"Oh, no time at all. I'll have your penthouse apartment baby-proofed and the office turned into a makeshift nursery by the time you're back," Ella assured me, excitedly. "It's just so wonderful that you're coming back! I wish it had been earlier because Stephanie could have used your support, but better late than never."

"In what way?" I asked brusquely before softening my tone, "in what way could I have helped?"

"Well, you must know how much your friendship meant-means to her, and I know she's missed you. And… well…" Ella added tentatively, "the pregnancy wasn't all smooth sailing for her between the gossip, mandatory bed rest and emergency C-section, but sh-"

"What?" I demanded, annoyed that I was still playing catchup on things I should've been in the know of. "She was on mandatory bed rest and had an emergency C-section?"

"Oh… um… I-I think I'd rather let Stephanie fill you in on all of that."

"I'm not sure when that'll be and I just…"

"Well, towards the end of her third trimester she was put on bed rest, but apparently that's fairly common for twins," Ella explained, "and after Serafina was delivered, the doctor had to do a C-section because there were some complications with Theo. It all worked out, but for a while we were all pretty worried because it wasn't part of her birthing plan and she ended up losing quite a bit of blood."

I took a few moments to wrap my mind around what she'd said and what I'd missed, apparently a few moments too many.

"Ranger?"

"And the gossip," I hated myself a little for the juvenileness of my question, but I just wanted to soak up everything I could about Stephanie and our twins.

"I think you should discuss that with her. She never really talked to me about it, but I'm sure you can imagine that things were a bit difficult for her given the Burg mentality."

"Yes, of course. And feel free to set up the nursery as you see fit," I said before hanging up. Luckily she was used to my terse goodbye's and wouldn't take offense. Besides, I couldn't hear anymore of how much I'd missed out on.

I dropped the phone back into the cradle, braced my forearms against my desk and re-read the information I'd collected on Stephanie Plum and w*ish. I was incredibly impressed with the business she'd built both professionally and as an avid appreciator of lingerie. What astonished me most of all was how I'd been oblivious to her talent at design and aspirations. Way to be aware of your surroundings, I scoffed at myself. I knew she'd been going to design school from her background check, but she never mentioned it and I figured it was a recreational art class like my sisters would occasionally mention or how the guys and I would learn about new forms of combat. I'd seen evidence of her sketching when we were friends and together, but she always brushed off my inquiries and told me it was just a hobby, a way to let out some of her excess creative energy. Of course that always led to flirty banter and, once we'd started dating, alternative methods of expending excess energy I reminisced with a slight smile.

Fuck, I thought as I scrubbed a hand roughly through the scruff I'd become partial to. Before the past weekend, I was convinced I had a good handle on women, how they thought, what made them tick, now however, I didn't have a clue. I was so far out of my depth with Stephanie, I didn't know how to begin to regain her trust and get us back to where we were before I left for that last damned mission.

What I really needed was advice. Unfortunately, none of my few close friends were paragons of building solid and lasting relationships. Besides, we weren't really the sit around and talk about our feelings type of guys, we were more of the work out our emotions with no holds barred sparring, target practice and liquor. And since my friends were out, that left me with family.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 04 JUL 2012 (2 Years, 11 Months Ago)**

"Ugh… typical," I heard Stephanie grumble next to me as she slumped as much as she could in her new, black, grecian style dress with her hair carefully styled in a mess of curls draped over one shoulder with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She'd been working at RangeMan for two months and the core team and I had one month left to make our decision to extend a full-contract offer and I had yet to spend any real time with her, I'd been forced to attend the annual Children's Hospital Fundraising Gala, a cause very important to the Mayor who was very important to RangeMan's success, with Stephanie. According to Lester, Tank and Bobby, she was very personable and bound to attract clients.

Unfortunately, she didn't appreciate that I preferred something calming like Brahms or Bach when driving to her Black Sabbath and silence to her constant stream of chatter. So, instead of this being an opportunity for us to get to know each other and me to evaluate how well she fits into our RangeMan culture, we're both annoyed.

"Stephanie, thanks so much for helping me out by giving up your Saturday evening to come hang with me at some stuffy, fancy pants party to help me rustle up some business and good PR," Stephanie said in a forced, sotto voce, apparently mimicking me. "No problem Ranger, I'm glad to help," she added with a little shoulder shrug. Apparently she wasn't done with her little one-woman conversation yet. "Well, we at RangeMan really appreciate it," she said, again in my voice. "Hopefully that includes me too," she rolled up in her flirty girl voice. "Thanks. Oh, and you look really pretty tonight." "I'm glad you approve of my use of the generous corporate card limit. And you clean up pretty well too, I'm impressed you can accessorize more than just kevlar," she quipped, back in her normal, sassy tone.

Thankfully she ended her conversation as I pulled up to the valet. It's showtime Manoso, and you might as well make the most of it, I thought to myself as I rounded my back of my car to help Stephanie out of the low-riding coupe. I pulled her up onto her sky-high, bronze stilettos a bit to forcefully and she regained her balance by placing a hand against the lapel of my black suit. "So you think I clean up well?" I asked softly, noticing how strikingly blue her eyes were.

She replied by rolling her eyes and sliding out from between me and the porsche. She slipped her arm in mine and we headed into the banquet hall, her heels clattering loudly against the marble floor.

"You do look really pretty," I said, smirking internally at her flush and minor stumble at the complement as we entered the garishly opulent room with disks of light dancing all over the floor courtesy of the several art deco chandeliers.

"Thanks," she whispered, leaning up to place a soft kiss on my cheek before stepping in front of me. "Now, let's go and make some money," she announced with a beaming smile, "boss man's counting on us and according to Lester, he's kind of a bear when he doesn't get his way," she quipped before hooking her arm through mine again and dragging me toward a cluster of prominent Trenton business men enjoying some champagne and the daring, almost waist-high slit in Stephanie's dress.

"Goddamn Lester," I grumbled before swiping two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, it was the only thing to make an evening of forced socializing bearable. Well, maybe not the only thing, I thought as Stephanie nudged me with her elbow and tilted her head towards Derrick Boch, owner of Boch Jaguar, Boch Maserati and Boch Mini dealerships who had recently suffered from a string of vandalisms that were wreaking havoc on his inventory.

"Mr. Boch? I'm Stephanie Plum, I was in A Midsummer Night's Dream with your daughter Lucy in high school," she greeted him with a friendly smile. "This is my friend and colleague, Ranger Manoso," she introduced me as we shook hands. "He's the CEO of RangeMan which provides several services including home and business security systems."

"It's great to meet any friend of Stephanie's," he said jovially, returning Stephanie's smile. "You should ask her about the senior prank they pulled," he chortled before asking about a consultation with RangeMan. I tossed a slight nod in Stephanie's direction and she winked at me before pointing discretely at a gaggle of society wives and flitting in their direction to continuing our marketing campaign.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 26 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"So, you guys all set? Any more questions?" I asked. I was finishing up a conference call with all of the w*ish franchise locations owners to confirm everything was on schedule for the rapidly approaching opening.

"I just wanted to confirm when the merchandise should be delivered?" Mona Bradbury asked.

"It shipped out three days ago so tomorrow or the following day," I replied, reading from my jumbled notes that had some suspicious food stains courtesy of Theo's food flinging. He is either extremely excited about sweet potato or find it to be unacceptable, it's hard to tell.

"Awesome, I'll let you know when it gets in," Mona replied chipperly.

"So, if there's nothing else?"

My question was met with a jumble of no's until Daniel Bellerose jumped in, "okay, now that we got all of the business stuff taken care of like hiring staff members, setting up our storefronts and merch, how stoked are you guys for Friday?"

We shared our excitement for a few more minutes before everyone decided to get back to work leaving me and Allegra in her office with the twins playing and babbling to each other in their playpen in the corner, both testing their legs out and looking adorable in matching purple and green overalls.

"So, how is everything going on with everyone?" I asked her as I leaned against the desk and admired a picture of her and her daughter on a carousel.

"I really like everyone, and they've been pretty open to asking me for advice which is really… well, it just nice being appreciated," she replied brightly. I knew Allegra knew how much I appreciated her handwork and ideas, but sometimes she was surprised that other people felt the same way when they had more traditional qualifications. Personally, I felt being a bonafide Jersey woman and who'd been dating since she was 15 made her plenty qualified to manage a lingerie boutique.

"I'm glad, I think the more you all get comfortable with each and can rely on each other, the more successful we'll all be," I replied. "So, what's been going on with you and Gracie?"

"Oh my gosh! She had to write a report on her favorite animal for school, but since she's a big girl now, she didn't want any help," Allegra explained with a soft smile reaching her kind eyes, "anyways, she finishes her paper and hands it proudly to me to proofread. So I look down, and I literally can't think of anything to say."

"What? Why?"

"Unicorns! She wrote a paper about unicorns!," Allegra chortled.

"Awesome!" I giggled, "did you tell her they're not real? Is that even allowed? I never got to that part of the parenting books."

"No, I just called the teacher to make sure it was okay," she shrugged. "I tried to tell her they're imaginary a couple times but I just couldn't get the words out with her beaming excitedly at me."

"Man, I love that kid!" I announced before gathering up the twins and treating us to a picnic in our new backyard.


	17. Chapter 13

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thank you for all of the favorites/follows/reviews, I really appreciate them. Also, I added the scene with the conversation between Ranger and Stephanie (I accidentally forgot to paste it into the document). Thank you to everyone who mentioned they wanted to read that conversation in their reviews - without you I would never have noticed that I left it out. Thanks and I hope you enjoy this next chapter! (Sorry for the delay and lack of editing.)

* * *

 **Part II. "I WISH on a star that somewhere you are thinking of me too." - Selena, "Dreaming of You"**

 **Chapter 13**

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 24 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"You've got quite a handful there! Can I help you with anything?" a perky voice drew my attention from debating the various attributes of the of strollers available at Give Wink, a baby store I stumbled into on my way to meet my uncle. After ambling through the store and picking up an armful of baby clothes and paraphanelia including toy cars similar to some I had as a child, I ended up in front of a wall of strollers.

"Which of these jogging strollers are for twins?", I asked as I accepted the shopping basket she handed me.

"Most of the ones we carry have a double option and jogging strollers have the tri-wheel configuration," she replied, her eyes dancing over me. "So, are you shopping for your sister?"

"What are the safety features?" I continued, sidestepping her inquiry.

"Oh," she replied, shocked at my lack of interest, "um… I'm not really sure about that beyond the safety harness type thing they generally have."

I nodded my acknowledgment and went back to reading the information on the placard near each of the strollers and after a few minutes she walked away. I liked the five point safety harness one of the options boasted as well as the sports shoe technology a few used to provide tires that wouldn't deflate.

I made my way back to the checkout counter, past the rows of tiny, soft clothing and miniature furniture, surprised at how captivating this impromptu shopping trip had been. I was about to check out when I gravitated to a rack of swimwear, fondly remembering Stephanie's explanation of why the beach was her happy place. I picked out two colorful swimsuits and hoped it would be a first I hadn't missed out on already.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 25 NOV 1999 (15 Years, 6 Months Ago)**

"Mijo (Spanish: my son), help your Tío Dante (Spanish: Uncle) unload the water bottles," my Grandma Rosa called to me from the kitchen. Things had been very frigid between her and I during the since six months since I'd been shunted down to Miami. She'd tried her best to get me to open up and recognize the opportunity she was giving me, but everything was still too raw. After our first month

I levered myself off of the floral sofa and headed to the front driveway just as Uncle Dante was pulling in. His tall, lean frame exited his shiny silver car. He nodded me over and opened the trunk. There were two 5-gallon water bottles we easily carried into the garage. I was about to head back into the house when Uncle Dante's voice halted me.

"Carlos, I need to talk to you," he said in a friendly yet stern tone. He sat down on one end of an old, dusty work bench in front of stacked boxes of random things that had taken up residence in my grandmother's garage over the past twenty years.

I leaned against the wall at the end of the bench, my arms crossed over my chest as I stared indifferently down at him. He just shook his head at my stance and continued with what he needed to stay.

"Carlos, what do you want?" he asked sincerely, his eyes searching mine.

"World peace," I scoffed.

"Part of growing up is recognizing when you need help and not squandering the opportunity when it's freely given to you," he said. "So, you ready to tell me what you want? No," he added when it was clear I wasn't going to be an active participant in his little pep talk. "I know this whole situation is crap and you don't want to be here, but it's stupid to destroy your future just to spite your parents. You're smarter than that and you should want better than what your settling for for yourself." Uncle Dante rested his elbows on his legs and steepled his fingers, held my gaze firmly and asked with deliberate enunciation "What do _you_ want?"

I slumped down on the edge of the bench, staring intently down at my shoes and hands fisted. I knew I'd been spiraling for years and when I was being cuffed, Mirandized and shoved unceremoniously into the back of a police car that smelled vaguely of vomit, I realized I had officially gotten out of control. But between the gang and bucking my father's authority, I knew I wouldn't be able to change in that stifling environment. And as much as I hated having been callously discarded by my family, I knew I had a better chance turning things around in a new environment, but a part of me was too stubborn to take advantage of the fresh start. Like changing would be acknowledging that I was wrong, and worse, my father was right. "Why do _you_ care?" I huffed.

"I care because you have potential and I want more for you," he said strongly before adding softly, "and because mí hermanita (Spanish: my little sister) called me the night you were arrested crying about how she didn't know how to help you and how her husband was hell bent on teaching you a lesson by kicking you out despite her protests." He rubbed his fingers along his goatee, waiting for me to respond.

I scoffed, pushing back the hurt that seemed to fill my chest whenever I thought of the argument that led to me boarding a greyhound to Miami.

"I just want to know which one of them is right, my sister or my brother in law. My money's on my sister, and I'd like the chance to help prove her right and to help you," he stated matter of factly, waiting for me to look at him before continuing. "What do _you_ want, Carlos?"

I thought about it for a few moments, fidgeting with the hole in the knee of my jeans. Unfortunately, I'd put most of my effort over the past several years in to asserting what I didn't want and had completely neglected to think about what I did want. "I… I just…," I huffed out a frustrated breath, "I just know I don't want to be my father. I want to be my own person, my own man."

A small smile slowly spread across Uncle Dante's face, "I'm glad my sister was right," he replied. "I want to help you with that, but I need you to step up and put in the effort. That means you have to get over the whole too cool to care shit. You want a successful future, you have to earn it."

I sighed and nodded in response, earning a chuckle from Uncle Dante.

"It'll be worth it, I promise," he chortled, clapping me on the shoulder and standing up. "'There is no such thing as a self-made man. We are made up of thousands of of others.', George Matthew Adams. I'm proud of you and I know your mom will be too." Uncle Dante went into the house to greet my Grandmother and left me in the garage to contemplate what he'd adeptly convinced my to agree to.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 24 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"Hola Tio Dante (Spanish: Hello Uncle Dante)," I greeted my Uncle as he joined me at our table at Zeke's Roadhouse. Uncle Dante grabbed my outstretched hand and pulled me into a tight but fleeting hug.

"Hola Carlos (Spanish: Hello Carlos)," he replied warmly as we settled into the counter heights seats. Uncle Dante had first brought me here to let me vent and talk some sense into me when I was a 16 year old who'd been ostracized to Miami full of piss and vinegar. He helped me see that I was in charge of making my own fate and luck and I could see being sent away by my family as a curse or as an opportunity to start over and be someone I could be proud of. Over the years we'd gotten to know each other really well and he'd become something of a father figure to me. Someone I could always count on for advice and the natural choice to discuss the questions and fear that had invaded my thoughts since Stephanie told me I was a father. "It's wonderful to see you, mijo (Spanish: son)! It's been too long since we've talked."

"Well, I'm not the one who's too busy branching out their real-estate conglomerate to hang out with his favorite nephew," I joked dryly.

Uncle Dante built his real-estate firm up from a few small yet crucially placed bars (including Zeke's Roadhouse) into a multimillion dollar business. He'd been branching outside of Miami over the past several years and had even been one of the initial investors in RangeMan. Once we were in the black and raking in profits, he let Tank, Lester, Bobby and me buy him out.

"True," Uncle Dante replied jovially, "but I least I don't leave at the drop of the hat to go galavanting around the world as a GI Joe."

"That's all behind me now," I replied before cautiously continuing, "but I am thinking of moving."

"Really?" he replied, taken aback before a wide smile spread across his slightly weathered features, "you're finally going back to your cariña up in New Jersey (Spanish: sweetheart)!" He punctuated his announcement by toasting me with the Bucanero beer I'd already ordered for us.

"No… well, I guess so," I hedged, my discomfort chafing as we neared the part of the conversation I was dreading. I'd never really cared about disappointing people until I moved to Miami and formed a relationship with Abuela Rosa and Uncle Dante. Sure, my parents' disapproval smarted, but by the time I realized I wanted something different, it was too late to change their minds about me. Dante'd taught me what it meant to be a man of honor, and leaving the woman you love to raise the children you didn't know you helped bring into the word, well, there was nothing honorable about that.

"You don't know? What does that mean? Where are you moving to?"

"I am moving back to Trenton, but the reason is complicated," I replied, continuing on when he shot me a look that never failed to illicit a confession from me. "When I was there for Daniella's wedding, I visited Stephanie and she… shit," I grunted before steeling myself, "she told me that after I left she found out she was pregnant, before, from when we were together."

My announcement was greeted with silence from Uncle Dante that dulled the low buzz of the conversations taking place all around us. Finally, after literally shaking the shock out of his head and a long pull of beer, he replied. "You have a what? One? One year old kid?"

"Two, she had twins," I replied, holding Uncle Dante's shocked and slightly critical gaze, hoping it wouldn't dip into disappointment.

"Shit," he mumbled. "And she just now told you?"

"Well," I replied, failing to hold back a grimace, "she'd left me several messages since I left, but I never returned any of them."

"Carlos, that woman, the woman you love, went through pregnancy and one year of being a single mother to two infants because you thought you were doing the right thing," he bit out at me before placing his hands palm down on the table and taking a few forced, deep breaths to calm down.

"I did do the right thing," I replied automatically. We'd had versions of this argument over the years and my response was instinctual. He never understood my decision to cut Stephanie out of my life when I left for that last mission and now he'd be even more convinced of my fault.

He huffed at my statement before focusing on the issue at hand. "Let's leave the past where it belongs and focus on what you're going to do now," he said, continuing only when I nodded consent, "you're moving back to support your family, _right_?" Again I nodded. "Good. Now, how will you do that?"

"I'm moving back by the end of the month and Stephanie has agreed to at least discuss how me being a part of their lives will work. I… I reacted poorly to the news, but I've been thinking about what it means, to be a Dad, and I want it, I'm just not sure how," I replied, slightly forlorn,

"Well, you're heart's always been in the right place," Uncle Dante replied matter of factly. His assessment lightened my spirits until he followed it up with, "although you go about it ass-backwards," under his breath while motioning for the waiter to bring us a few more beers. "I think you will have to build your place in their lives slowly, especially with the way you left and didn't even respond to her reaching out."

"I know I really hurt her, but I'm not sure how to get us back to where we were… she doesn't trust me anymore," I admitted.

"He who does not trust enough will not be trusted, Lao Tzu," he offered. Rather than religion, Uncle Dante chose to take life advice from philosophers, world and business leaders and philanthropists that he respected. I jokingly referred to it his fortune cookie gospel, but it had helped shape me into the man I was and paved the way towards the man I wanted to be. "You have to show her, every single day, that she can count on you and that you want to be a part of your family."

I thought about what he'd said as we drank in silence for a few minutes. I knew all along what it would take to make this work, I just needed to know I had Uncle Dante's support. I knew Stephanie was prepared to allow me a modicum of contact and I just needed to expand my role gradually. It was like any other mission or takedown I'd planned: I had my goal set in my crosshairs and with consistency and patience, I'd get there. "Thanks," I said softly.

"Always," he replied, clapping me in the shoulder. "And one last thing, being there or paying for things won't mean anything unless you take the same leap of faith you're asking of Stephanie and open up," I nodded that I'd heard and would consider his advice. "Okay, now that we're done with the sappy shit and I want to know all about my grandchildren!"

"I have a daughter, Serafina Rosa Plum, and a son, Theodore Dante Plum," I announced, "they'll be one in a few weeks."

"Theodore _Dante_ , huh?" his breezy tone belied by the slight welling of tears in his eyes, "I can't wait to meet them _and_ their mother."

"Give me a few weeks to figure things out, and I'd love to introduce you."

"So, what are they like? Do you have pictures? Do they have your glare? Because I'd _love_ to see that on an infant," he rapid fired at me.

"Like I said, my conversations with Stephanie were a bit contentious…" I explained, trying to keep the anger and disappointment I'd focused inward out of my voice.

"You'll get there, I have faith in you," Uncle Dante said, clinking the rim of his frosted beer mug against mine, relaying the same sentiment as when I told him I wasn't sure how to break free of the gang mentality or that I wasn't sure I could make RangeMan work.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 29 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

"So, any frantic calls from the new w*ish location owners this morning?" Aeneas asked as he walked me down my driveway.

"Despite the pre-opening pow-wow conference call, I did have a few frantic calls and texts, mostly wanting to know how quickly I could restock our more popular items and to answer questions about new lines we're introducing," I reported excitedly. Adrenaline had saturated my veins for most of the morning and left me with a pleasant post-adrenaline high buzz.

"That's awesome Steph! I wouldn't have expected anything less," he replied, squeezing the hand I had resting in the crook of his arm. "So no disasters or anything?"

"Well, apparently Daniel had a problem with women stripping the mannequins when they were running low on certain items, apparently the women couldn't wait for the staff to restock," I said with an exaggerated eye roll. "Oh, and Mona said she saw had a little overcrowding that may have bordered on a fire code violation, but she managed it without incident."

"Well, if you're gonna have problems, those are the kind that you want."

"Definitely," I said as Aeneas opened the door of his Audi RS 7 for me. "Is that for me?" I asked excitedly, one foot halfway into the passenger side of the sleek vehicle.

"Yup," Aeneas replied, smiling brightly as he held the door open for me looking incredibly dapper in his navy suit.

I settled into the comfy, leather seat and examined the gift wrapped in shiny, violet wrapping paper with a gold bow wrapped around it. "So, what's this?" I asked once Aeneas got back into his seat, shaking the gift, "is it a pony?"

"Nope, not a pony," Aeneas chortled, driving us towards New York City, "but there's _always_ next time. Uncle Alexander wanted to get you a little congratulatory gift and for me to give you his sincerest apologies for not being able to make it tonight."

"Oh, he didn't have to," I replied automatically as I ripped into the gift, littering the floor mats with wrapping paper. "So, is he away on business?" I asked absentmindedly.

"He's actually on vacation with a new girlfriend, I think this one's a beauty queen or a professional cheerleader… it's hard to keep track. And that would be much more convincing if you weren't ripping into it," Aeneas teased as he zipped through traffic.

I ignored him and stilled holding the shoe box with Jimmy Choo stenciled on the top in clear, black letters. "Aeneas, this is too much!" I exclaimed.

"Well, he thought it would be a nice way to mark the event," he replied with a charming, lopsided smile.

"You know, he got me a pair of black stiletto Jimmy Choos when I opened the Newark location of w*ish," I reminisced softly as I peeled back the tissue paper to reveal pointy-toed stilettos covered in square, pavé crystals. "Oh these are beautiful," I cooed, slipping them on, replacing my black, strappy shoes, and admiring how they caught the light. "I feel very Cinderella-ish."

"Are you looking for a prince to dance with?" Aeneas asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

I snapped my head to the side, gaping and facing him as he focused on driving with an occasional smirk my way. I was generally prepared for his flirty banter, but something about his question caught me off guard. Recently, I'd felt that his casual overtures were less casual and more him feeling me out. I'd been staunchly closed off to any romantic entanglements since I found out I was pregnant, but lately I'd been feeling like I was finally ready to open myself up to the possibility of more than just my raspberries and w*ish.

"Hmmm… well he better ask me before midnight or run the risk getting pumpkin on himself," I quipped with a bright smile.

"You're _definitely_ worth braving a little pumpkin goop," Aeneas tossed back with a wink before focusing on weaving his sports car through the light traffic.

I laughed a little forcedly to cover my blush and lack of retort. Personally, I'd always preferred Aladdin or Batman to Prince Charming, but given how things turned out with my real-life Batman, it might be time to retire the whole bad boy thing and start pining for Charming. Besides, all the Prince Charmings always had great hair and were quite adept at swordplay.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 21 JUN 2013 (1 Year, 11 Months Ago)**

I was finishing up a sketch of a fitted cocktail dress with cutouts along the ribcage and metal accents for my design midterm project while lying on the floor of my apartment, bobbing along to the soundtrack of The Little Mermaid. I set my sketch pad down and looked over at Angie and Mary Alice, my sister Valerie's daughters, who were spending the weekend with me. Valerie and her husband Steve dropped them off in Trenton on their way to a 10 day vacation to be split between New York City and an all inclusive resort in the Poconos. Personally, if I lived in California, I would've just gone to Malibu or Hawaii, but whatever.

I met my Dad and nieces at Pino's after work for pizza and took my nieces home for a slumber party girls' weekend. We stopped by Stop and Shop to pick up all the slumber party essentials from marshmallows to extra buttery popcorn and then came to my shoebox of an apartment. Luckily, kids found anything new to be exciting and declared spending the weekend in my drab apartment complex and shabbily furnished apartment an adventure.

"Wow Mary Alice, that is a really pretty picture of a horse and your beach landscape is awesome."

"Thanks Aunt Steffie," their voices rang out. When we'd gotten home, Angie noticed my design school art supplies cluttering my coffee table and we ended up doing a little drawing and coloring.

"Here," Mary Alice said, proudly handing me her artwork, "you can hangs it on your fridge!"

"Thank you!" I replied enthusiastically.

"Can we watch Tangled now? I looove Tangled," Angie pleaded and squealed with delight when I nodded, her wispy, blond hair fluttering around her face.

"Angie, why don't you get the movie set up and Mary Alice and I will pop some pizza bites into the oven and bring dessert," I said, helping both girls up. "What do you guys feel like first?"

"I want cookie dough!" Mary Alice replied.

"Can we also have coke floats?" Angie asked.

"Of course."

"Hey, Aunt Steffie," Angie's timid voice halted my progress to the kitchen, "are you _sure_ you know how to use the oven?"

"What? Yeah, I know how to use the oven, why?" I replied, confused at her query. I wasn't going to be challenging Julia Child to a bake off anytime soon, but I could _definitely_ handle some frozen junk food. That was my cooking comfort zone.

When Angie seemed reticent to reply, Mary Alice answered, eager to help. "Grandma says wes can't eat here 'cause you don't knows how to cook," she explained matter of factly, her light brown pigtails bouncing.

What the hell, I thought, annoyed that my Mother was harping about me to my nieces. I'd grown accustomed to her criticism, but she shouldn't be sharing that negativity with my nieces. And, it's not like I wasn't going to make sure they were fed this weekend. "I promise I can heat up the frozen, pre-packaged food. Okay?" I huffed slightly. The girls nodded and we headed to our tasks.

"Why did Grandma says that you weren't allowed to use the oven?" Mary Alice asked as she carefully scooped ice=cream into three mugs from her perch on my kitchen counter.

"Grandma doesn't like when people do things differently than she likes to do things," I replied diplomatically.

"Mommy's like that when I pretend to be a horse and gallop around," she replied, commiserating while continuing to scoop with gusto.

"Well I think a little pretending is fun," I replied, ruffling her hair. "So, are you having fun in New Jersey and hanging out with Grandma, Grandpa, and Grannie Mazur?"

"It's fun 'cause we gets to play and don't haves to go to school and Grandma and Grannie bake us all sorts of fancy dessert that Mommy usually doesn't make. But I kinda miss Mommy and Daddy."

I helped her off the counter and handed her two large bowls of popcorn while I carried the desserts back to the living room and thought of how to make tomorrow special and keep Mary Alice and Angie from missing their parents while they were off on their second honeymoon, my sister's words. "Do you guys wanna go to the beach tomorrow?"

"Yeah!" they cried as we settled in to watch the movie. I'd just managed to get situated on the lumpy sofa when I heard a knocking on my door. I left the girls raptly watching baby Rapunzel and answered the door, surprised to see Grandma Mazur at the door.

"Hey Grandma! Are you joining us for our girls only slumber party?"

"Nope, baby granddaughter, I've got plans tonight with Lucille. We're going to Gary Donaldson's viewing at Stiva's so I can score a date with his brother Harold. He's been sniffing around me for a few weeks and I plan console him right into bed," Grandma Mazur explained with a saucy wink as she handed me a paper grocery bag.

"Well, good luck with Harold," I chortled. "What is this? Is Mom seriously this worried that I'll let the girls go hungry?" I huffed as I looked into the bag, confused when I only found some folded bedsheets. "Grandma, I already have sheets for the inflatable mattress I borrowed from Mary Lou."

"Oh, these are for Mary Alice to help with any accidents she might have. Hopefully she'll be fully potty trained soon and we won't have to use those anymore. Have fun!" Grandma explained before heading back to the elevator at the end of hall before I could formulate a response.

Mary Alice wasn't fully potty trained? What was the criteria for being _partially_ potty trained? I know she'd gone to the bathroom earlier with success so did that mean she just had accidents at night? And why hadn't _anyone_ warned me at all when I brought up my whole girls only slumber party weekend plan? Crap, I though to myself as I locked the door and trudged slowly back to the living room with a pile of what was apparently cloth sheets with plastic backing, I was not at all prepared for _pee-duty_. Nope, not at all, _not_ gonna happen.

Unfortunately, none of my friends would be willing to brave the situation except Mary Lou, but she'd probably experienced enough pee-duty with her own kids to last a Methselah's lifetime. Dammit! I just wanted to chill with my nieces and eat junk food and watch Disney princesses get their happily ever afters. I was wondering if I even had any plastic gloves when I realized I'd overlooked an entire section of my rolodex filled with strapping men who were more than qualified for handing the situation: my Merry Men. They lived for action and adventure, right? And they're even trained for bomb disposal, so pee-duty should be easy! Now all I needed was a way to trick a couple of them into helping me…

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 29 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

I looked around at the long, rectangular table surrounded by people who loved and supported me and couldn't help the blinding smile that took over my face. My father, Grandma, friends, work associates and several of the Merry Men were enjoying themselves, dressed to the nines, laughing, and genuinely happy for me and the official franchising of w*ish. It filled my heart with happiness and I almost didn't miss the few people I would've expected to have here for me like my mother and Ranger. It didn't matter because my true family, the family I'd forged for myself (sans kids) was here and my heart was too full of joy for any regret to worm its way in.

I stood with my champagne flute to make a quick toast and laughed when Tank used his commanding officer bark to get everyone to quiet down. "I just wanted to thank everyone here for coming out tonight! I've been anxiously waiting for this day, this dream, for years now and it's only because of your help and support that I made it- we made it. So, congratulations and thanks! I love you all!" I said, raising my glass before taking a sip and deftly blinking the prickle of tears away.

"We love you too, white girl!" Lula cheered sassily from her perch nestled against Tank, her silver beaded outfit contrasting strikingly against his black on black suit.

"I'm so proud of you, Pumpkin," my father said, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before returning to his seat next to Patricia who I was only slightly surprised to see. I'd casually invited her and, judging from the smile etched into my father's face, he hadn't either, but it was a very welcome surprise. And she and Ella had hit it off immediately, both being truly compassionate, nurturing souls.

It was actually kind of interesting to see the people that populated so many distinct and separate parts of my life together as a cohesive group. I was please at how seamlessly my family, friends, Merry Men and w*ish colleagues melded. And while I did miss Alexander Ramos being here to celebrate w*ish since he played such a pivotal role in it's success, it was probably best that he was off getting his cradle robbing on and wasn't forced to socialize with a handful of ex-armed forces, security specialists.

After receiving congratulations from everyone, Camilla stood a little jerkily but clearly determined. She and I hadn't really talked since the big reveal about Ranger being my raspberries father. She'd tried to talk to me about it a few times, but I'd used the craziness of work and impending deadlines as an effective shield. I did, however, appreciate that she was letting Ranger and I share the news with the rest of their family and the "If you think I'm cute you should see my Aunt" t-shirts she bought for the twins.

"Hey everyone," Camilla called out, lowering the buzz of my guests a bit, "I just wanted to say that I'm proud of you, Steph, for what you've accomplished and how far you've come and I'm just really grateful I quit that horrible job and got the opportunity to be a part of your w*ish family. Congratulations!"

I mouthed thank you and took another sip of the bubbly liquid. Aeneas walked up to me and pulled me up to my feet. "Dance?" he asked, tilting his head towards the dance floor towards the other side of the restaurant. I smiled and started following him, my gorgeous new shoes marking our progress.

"Come on guys, it's party time!" I heard Calista exclaim as she undoubtedly dragged Lester to the dance floor behind us.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 31 MAY 2015 (Present Day)**

I walked through the airport with my large, black duffle bag slung over my shoulder, ignoring the chaos of bleary stewardesses, cranky kids and annoyed travelers. I breathed in the thick, smoggy air that welcomed me back to New Jersey. I'd caught the first flight out in order to have a full day before officially resuming my position at RangeMan Trenton. I had a few things to get in order before I threw myself into work and my plan to win back Stephanie Plum… to win back my family.


	18. Chapter 14

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thank you for your favorites and reviews and for reading along despite the long lulls between chapters. I hope you enjoy this next chapter and start to the third part of the story!

Sorry for the delay and just a quick heads up - this is alarmingly unedited. I hope you enjoy it anyways! Thank you for your support.

* * *

 **Part III. "A WISH is a powerful thing, especially when it comes from the heart." - Jiminy Cricket**

 **Chapter 14**

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 01 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

I settled into the rolling chair at the head of the conference room table for our weekly staff meeting, trying to ignore the stiff atmosphere. Most of the men at RangeMan Trenton were surprised when I showed up to stay and while they had been respectful, there was a stiffness that I hadn't felt since I the news that I'd dumped Stephanie had spread through the office. No one was stupid enough to be outwardly rude or disapproving, but the atmosphere had been combustable then just like it felt now.

I figured the best plan to get back to normal was to just power ahead as if everything was fine. "Any incident reports from this past week?" I addressed everyone.

Woody looked to Tank and Lester for assurance before facing me again. "False alarm at a residential account and attempted burglary at a corporate account," he drawled succinctly.

I fought the urge to clench my jaw at the truncated response. "Were the perpetrators apprehended?"

"Yes," Woody replied.

Fuck, this was like pulling teeth. And from the slightly amused looks Tank and Lester had shot me, neither of them was willing to help. "And were they booked at TPD?"

"Yes."

So much for my pretend everything is normal and it will eventually be true plan I thought as I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I thought you'd already expressed your displeasure on the mats last week?" A few men huffed, but no one replied. "Men, this is a workplace and your personal opinions regarding my life choices do _not_ belong here."

After a little disgruntled grumbling, Cal spoke up for the group. "Ranger, we respect you and RangeMan, but we care about Bombshell, and it would be difficult if, knowing how tough things had been for Stephanie over the past 18 months, you came back here for anything not in the best interests of her or the twins," he explained cautiously. Although, to his credit, he never dropped my harsh gaze.

I glared at him for a few minutes, deciding what to do. We'd mirrored the structure of RangeMan after the army and explaining my actions to my men chafed. Tank had warned me that the men might be a little prickly, I just didn't expect to experience it while they were on shift. "I'm only going to address this once, I moved back for my family. Anyone other questions can be asked on the mats." I leveled a stern look at everyone settled around the conference room table before resuming the weekly status meeting. "New or renewing client meetings slated for this week?"

"Kingston Preparatory School is interested in a security system after threats and attempts on several high profile students and two corporate clients want to discuss their contracts." I internally smirked at the expectedly edifying response. "Oh and a Mrs. Felton wants a meeting to discuss a residential account with Tank and only Tank. Apparently someone made a big impression," he joked, eliciting a round of snickers and some hushed betting on how Tank would fare and what Lula's response would be.

At least some things were back to normal.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 07 OCT 2013 (1 Years, 8 Months Ago)**

I took a sip of warm coffee as I flitted my gaze over all of the patrons enjoying their lunches of burgers, fries and a mandatory side of angina I mused as the bells above the door tinkled, announcing the entrance of a slightly weathered, lean man dressed in sharply creased pants. He took in the expanse of the diner before heading confidently in my direction with a nod.

"Manoso," he greeted me before settling into the seat across from me and taking a sip of the coffee I'd ordered for him.

"Sir," I nodded, "I was surprised to get your call."

"Well, work has been keeping me busy," he replied, carefully setting his mug on the slightly discolored formica table. General Lee Breckenridge was in charge of covert operations in the Western Hemisphere and we'd met when he was still an asset handler and I had begun my contract to go off into the wind at the government's whim. We'd built a friendship based on mutual respect and as much trust as was possible given our professions. As he climbed the ranks, he used some of his pull to vouch for me and RangeMan with several domestic alphabet agencies which netted us considerable profit over the years.

"Side effect of all of those stars on your shoulder?"

He arched his eyebrow in response and ran a finger along a long, thin scar that spanned the left side of his jawline. "We can't all leave for the private sector."

"Easy for you to say. You got to stay stateside and enjoy things like running water while I was sweating in a jungle and living off of MREs," I scoffed. We'd had this discussion before and he knew exactly why I got out of the game.

The second to last job I did was hunting down the Punho Preto (Portuguese: Black Fist), a terrorist organization that had taken seed in Brazil after they had generously opened their borders for refugees from the Middle East. They had splintered off from their parent organization because of differing approaches to destroying the infidels. I was called in to take down the cell when credible intel regarding an upcoming barrage of bombings on U.S. soil was acquired. My team and I managed to take out enough of the infrastructure and leadership to halt their plans but not before they blew up the main atrium of Cinderella's castle in Disney World resulting in hundreds of casualties. We'd been recalled and the mission had been crowned a success despite my insistence that we hadn't gotten all of the leadership and they had enough numbers to regroup. Unfortunately, the higher ups didn't see it that way and without any credible intel, Lee wasn't willing to prolong the mission. I couldn't re-up my contract after that. The stakes were too high to leave the job half done and I didn't want that to be my legacy.

"Private sector keeping you busy?"

"It's not without it's moments," I replied, thinking over some of the trickier take-downs we'd done lately.

"That all that's keeping you busy?" he asked pointedly, giving me the distinct impression that he knew more than he was letting on.

"Just say what you want to say. Coy was never really your style," I said dryly, taking another sip of my black coffee.

"Rumor has it a blue-eyed, curly haired Jersey girl has been keeping you pretty busy," he divulged nonchalantly. I knew, given my skill set and past employment, that I would always be under some amount of surveillance. The focus on my love life, however, piqued my ire.

"Rumor has it? Really?" I forced out a chortle.

"You forget, I know you, I know the monster that lives inside of you. Your friendship and budding romance with Ms. Plum was a bit surprising," he replied diplomatically just as the bored waitress trundled over to top off our coffees and sharply asked if we wanted anything to eat. When Lee said we were fine with just coffee, she rolled her eyes and shuffled away.

Lee took a long drag of his steaming beverage. "I know you miss the chase, Ranger," Lee taunted smugly.

I only needed a moment to reflect before knowing that I didn't really miss the chase. I wasn't interested in that type of chase anymore and RangeMan kept my adrenaline pumping. I'd recently discovered a more domestic type of chase and having recently convinced Stephanie to give us a legitimate go, I had all the chase I could handle. I opened my mouth to reply only to be stunned into silence by his words.

"The Black Fist is back on our radar. I've come to offer you a job."

Punho Preto (Portuguese: Black Fist), the one that got away. Well fuck, I thought. So much for being retired.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 02 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

I tentatively stepped off the elevator onto the fifth floor of RangeMan Trenton, the staccato of my mary jane heels announcing my arrival. As I walked towards Tank's office, I drew the gaze of several of the Merry Men who went from excited to confused as they realized I hadn't brought my raspberries.

Woody smiled at me a little sorrowfully from the doorway to the break room. "Bombshell, where-"

"Sorry Woody, can't talk. I'm running late," I gushed as I breezed by without breaking my stride. The quirked eyebrow he leveled at me let me know that he knew I opted to show up just in time for the meeting to cut down on superfluous questions about where Theo and Serafina were. They knew. I'd gotten dozens of calls and texts to warn me that Ranger was officially back at RangeMan Trenton and would likely be sitting in on my meeting with Tank.

I managed to make it the rest of the way to Tank's office without any additional distractions and was about to knock when I was lurched to the side and into Lester's office. "Hey Beautiful," Lester greeted me with that tentative, pitying expression mirrored by all of the Merry Men, "how are you doing?"

"Seriously? _That's_ why you're making me later for a meeting I'm already late for," I huffed, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in my black pencil skirt with a lace overlay.

"He's here, in _there_ ," Lester whispered, nodding towards the direction of Tank's office.

"Yes Lester, you told me in the voicemail you left me at five-freakin-thirty this morning," I snapped and ran my fingers through my carefully tousled hair. So what if I spent a little extra on my appearance knowing I'd be seeing Ranger. I had to make up for the past two times I'd seen him in my pajamas and sweaty moving clothes. "Sorry Les, I didn't mean to snap at you, it's just people keep warning me and asking me if I'm okay and looking at me like that," I said, pointing at his face with a scowl, "it's a little much."

"We just worry about you," he explained softly, looking a little dejected.

"I know, and I appreciate it, really, but I'm fine. Ranger and I are adults and we'll find a way to coexist," I explained. "Thanks for worrying," I added, hugging him tightly.

"Alright Beautiful. Now, I believe we have somewhere to be," he said, leading me out of his office and back towards Tank's.

"You're coming too?"

"Yup, I promised Calista I'd have your back," he replied in a low voice that wouldn't carry, rapping on the door.

"Whipped," I muttered with a smile, amazed at how their relationship had progressed into something with substance and longevity.

"No, we're not into that hardcore BDSM shit. Handcuffs or crops though, definitely in our wheelhouse," he retorted matter-of-factly.

"Enter," came Tank's booming voice before I could reply and Lester ushered me in with a wink. Tank and Ranger were decked out in RangeMan shirts stretched tightly over taught muscles and black cargo pants and were seated in the leather club chairs in Tank's office's sitting area. I smiled hello to Tank and did some weird jerky nod thing in Ranger's direction before settling into the leather sofa across from them with Lester.

I pulled a thick file from my attache and placed it on the glass coffee table in front of Tank. "That is the contract I renegotiated with the-"

"Where are the twins?" Ranger interrupted softly, his calm demeanor belied by the bruising grip he has on the chair's arms.

"I-I didn't bring them today. We need to talk and I didn't want you to meet them here with so many distractions," I explained. "I was hoping we could have lunch after the meeting to go over a few things." Ranger nodded in response while Tank and Lester watched, riveted with our interaction and slightly tense as if at any moment one or both of us may lash out. I nodded back and continued with the business at hand. "I renegotiated the contract for munitions and weapons with Army Surplus, Ltd. and convinced them that they needed to offer us a 25% cut on prices across the board in exchange for detailed annual background checks on all employees. Apparently they've always had a little problem with theft, but recently it has gotten out of hand and it's eating into their profits in a substantial way."

"Damn Beautiful!" Lester chortled, nudging me with his shoulder.

"I've also included the bids from several tactical gear companies because our current contract will be up in about six weeks and research on the new technology you requested is in there as well. I've included summaries, quality and cost comparisons. I can walk you through them, but it might be helpful if you guys had a chance to review the information first."

"Okay Steph," Tank replied slowly, clearly confused by my breviloquence. "Is there anything else?"

"No, well yes, but I don't have anything else to report," I babbled before taking a deep breath to focus. I pulled out an envelope addressed to Tank and placed it on the file across from Tank. "I wanted to tender my resignation. I-"

"What?", "Beautiful!" Tank and Lester exclaimed over each other while Ranger just glared at me as if trying to see inside my head at what I was thinking.

"My staying on part-time was only ever supposed to be temporary. It's time," I explained softly.

"What the hell does that mean? It's time? Time for what? To move on?" Lester complained loudly.

"It's not like I'm just gonna up and leave and never come back, but w*ish is growing and I need to focus on that and my rasp-our… our raspberries. I planned to stay on for another month to give you time to fill the position and to help train them."

"Bomber, you don't have to quit. You're always welcome here," Tank said.

"Thanks Big Guy. And I promise to bring Serafina and Theo to Trenton often to hang out with all of her RangeUncles."

"Ba-Stephanie, you don't have to quit just because I'm back in Trenton," Ranger finally contributed to the meeting.

"It's not that, I just need to focus my time on the twins and w*ish. I've been meaning to transition out of my position here for months and I finally feel ready to do so."

"Okay Bomber, we get it. We'll review your research and call with any questions and maybe when we've got a few candidates in mind to fill your position you can help us with the interviews," Tank offered.

"Sounds good. And thanks for understanding," I said, bumping Lester's muscled bicep with my shoulder. "Ranger, I was wondering if you could take a little break for lunch so we could talk?" I asked, annoyed at the slight tinge of tentativeness in my voice.

Ranger just nodded in response, still staring intently before he rose lithely out of his seat and stepped into the hallway.

I pulled out a stack of envelopes out of my attache with various animal print designs and handed them to Lester. "These are invitations to the twins' first birthday party for all of you guys. Could you deliver them please?"

"Sure thing Beautiful. Zoo theme?"

"Well the twins love the nursery you guys set up, so it seemed fitting," I replied with a smile before standing tall and joining Ranger in the hall.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 02 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

I had been sitting across from Stephanie at the diner near RangeMan we used to frequent before I walked away for the past ten minutes, the suffocating silence was only disrupted when we placed our orders. I'd never felt this uneasy around Stephanie before.

"Stephanie," I began after giving myself a little pep talk, "I thought a lot about what you said, about figuring out what I wanted and how important it was to be sure. I want to be a father," I stressed slowly, dragging out the syllables and holding her wary gaze. "I want our children in my life, I want us to be a family."

" _No!_ " Stephanie hissed before shaking her head and muttering to herself. "Sorry," she grimaced, "I'm glad you want to know our children, but I want to be completely clear that there is _no_ us," she added, waving her hand between us.

"Babe, let me just explain wh-" I retorted.

"No, Ranger. Just no," she hissed sharply. "No more _Babe_ or flirting or pretending we have a future or stealing kisses. I don't really care anymore and I am _only_ here to discuss our coparenting which is the _only_ relationship we can ever have. The twins are the solitary place where our lives intersect. Okay?" she demanded. "I get to live my life and be happy, just like you. I didn't stop you from doing what you wanted and you don't get to hold me back now," she added softly when it was clear I didn't intend on responding.

I knew I'd hurt her badly when I left, but the added stress of being pregnant without a decent explanation from me and having to be a single parent had made her more withdrawn and cautious than the woman I remembered. I nodded once, intending to slow the timeline of my plan to win her back. She needed to get to know me again, to trust me again. Then I could turn up the charm and start making up for lost time, I decided smugly.

"Okay, so, I've thought about this a lot and I have a few questions and demands I need to bring up. So, first, I need to know why you want to be a father. I know it's personal, but I need to be able to trust you and it's gonna take time to build slowly and organically and knowing your motivation would go a long way to building trust."

"I was surprised when I first heard I was a father and I'm not proud of my reaction, but it's something I've secretly wanted with you. Since the joy has worn off, there's only been joy," I reluctantly replied. "I want this, to be a father. I plan on proving it to you everyday."

She nodded and took a few gulps of her tea. "Thank you for sharing that with me, Ranger," she reached out to take my hand before catching herself and pulling her hand back to rest in her lap. "I thought I could start with some things I wanted to bring up with respect to us coparenting and then you could address any issues or concerns you had. I think open, honest communication will be in our raspberries' best interests."

I nodded my agreement and signaled for Stephanie to begin.

"I think we need to focus on being friends, like I said. I'm not looking to rekindle anything and I expect you to respect that and my privacy so no more breaking into where I live," she reiterated and sighed in relief when I nodded. "Good. So, my objective is making sure the twins are happy, healthy and in an environment they can thrive in. From things you've told me and the random story from Camilla, we had pretty different childhoods despite the Catholic guilt being heavily pushed and we need to find a common ground regarding our parenting style."

"Parenting style?" I asked dryly with a smirk.

"What? It's what all the parenting books recommend for our situation," she snapped, annoyed at my teasing.

"You read a parenting book?" I asked skeptically. "You hate people who tell you how to do things, especially when you have to read it."

"Fine, it was more like I listened to a few mommy blog podcasts while running errands," she snapped, crossing her arms in front of her in a huff and rolling her clear, blue eyes.

"So, parenting style? What exactly does that mean?"

"Well, right now they're babies so it's more that I try to use fresh, organic foods, make sure they spend time with other infants so they're socialized, keep to a pretty structured schedule for naps and mealtimes, restrict who is allowed to babysit, and make sure to spend time with them daily despite what is going on with w*ish and my friends."

I nodded, accepting her decisions and masking my surprise at how responsible and selfless some of her choices were. I guess the woman I remembered who thought a little over 1000 calories of doughnuts made up a well balanced breakfast and opted to fly by the seat of her pants rather than take the time out to formulate a plan had evolved. "I agree. Who is on the approved babysitter list?"

"My dad, Grandma Mazur if supervised by my dad, Mary Lou, Calista, Victoria, Ella, Reggie my assistant and the Merry Men. And before you ask, I had everyone take a quick self defense and infant CPR class and the twin's have trackers and panic buttons at Lester and Tank's insistence."

"Reggie?" I knew and was relatively comfortable with everyone else on her list given the extra precautions she'd taken.

"Regina Milton. Graduated with honors from Rutgers and is saving up for grad school. Tank can get results of her background check."

I gave myself an internal reminder to run another background check once I got back to the office incase things had changed. "And what is your parenting style for when they're older?"

"Well, I don't have any specific rules in mind, but basically I want to them to feel loved and supported and free to be who or whatever they want to be," she explained while running a finger around the rim of her mug absentmindedly. "Oh, and I want them to be respectful and learn to value things and not take them for granted because I really don't want to raise little asshole hellions like some of my cousins' and friends of friends' kids."

"I agree although it's a little vague."

"I know. It's just hard to know what to prepare for until the situation arises and it depends a lot on who Theo and Serafina grow up to be," she shrugged. "Specifically though, I'd like to keep my work hours where I can spend significant time with them daily. Right now that's mostly me doing work while they're napping or playing with each other. As they get older, I definitely want daily family dinners to be a thing and to spend time with them in the afternoons as they play and do homework."

I pictured the four of us spending the evening together as soon as she mentioned it. "I would really like that, Steph."

She flashed a small smile before continuing. "I think we need to talk about things as they come, make decisions together and learn to compromise. We can both be pretty stubborn, but as long as we keep our raspberries' best interests in mind, we have common ground at least," she explained, forcing a little laugh. "I'm pretty used to doing things on my own, but I'll try to include you more. So Ranger, was there anything you wanted to discuss?"

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 07 JUN 2012 (3 Years)**

"Ugh," I groaned as I scraped myself off the black, padded floor in the sparring area of the RangeMan Trenton gym charmingly referred to as The Thunderdome. I was currently enduring one of two weekly selfdefense training sessions with Ranger. Apparently it was required of all RangeMan employees regardless of the fact that I really only had an office position. Sure, I got a little caught up trying to figure out how Morelli's arrest tied into the disappearance of several working girls and ended up with a psychopathic boxer after me, but did that justify having to spend two hours a week getting tossed around like a rag doll? I didn't think so. Unfortunately, my boss disagreed. My alarmingly handsome, slightly sweaty boss who was currently helping me up off the floor and smirking at my abysmal attempt to get out of a chokehold.

"Come on Steph, you can do better than that," he said, tugging me a little too hard and pulling my into his rock hard chest. "Let's run through it again," he announced before resuming his position behind me and grabbing me in a bear hug.

"Okay, so if some jerk decides to attack me from behind, I'm supposed squat down, stomp on his foot, kick his knee, bash him in the face with the back of my head," I parroted my earlier instruction while completing the steps slowly.

"Good job Steph," Ranger said, his voice ghosting over my ear.

This was the up and down-side to training time. Close proximity to Ranger was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking and most of the time my brain was so overrun that I couldn't string two words together. Luckily, after a few weeks of watching me struggle with my libido, Hector took pity on me and taught me a few tricks to catch Ranger off guard and level the playing field a bit.

"Okay Babe," Ranger said, letting go of me after a quick squeeze and taking a step back, "show me what you got."

I'd barely nodded in response when Ranger's viselike grip encircled me and my body sprung into action of it's own accord. I squatted, stomped his insole, kicked out his knee, rammed the back of my head into his jaw and added a little twist Hector taught me. I twisted my body to the side, pushed my him into his stomach and flipped Ranger over me by tugging his arm over my shoulder. He landed with a satisfying thump on the mats and stared up at me with a shocked yet impressed expression.

"Who taught you that Babe?" Ranger asked, the endearment slipping out of his lips easily and with more frequency, especially when it was just the two of us.

I couldn't keep the smirk off my face as I took in his ruffled appearance as he laid, splayed out on the mat. "A girl's gotta keep a few secrets, Ranger, keeps the mystery alive," I replied smugly before backing away and scurrying away before he could exact revenge.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 02 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

I was kinda surprised at how calmly our conversation was going so far, I guess I'd been worrying for no reason (although I didn't regret the triple application of deodorant this morning). It was the complete opposite of our conversation after we ran into each other at Vero Amore.

"I do have a few things I'd like to address," Ranger began voicing his stipulations, "I'd like to spend time with our children on a daily basis unless something comes up with work. I don't want to infringe on your life, but I've got a lot of time to make up for and I'm willing to work around your schedule and do the bulk of the commuting if necessary."

I forced myself to let out the breath I held in panic at the thought of seeing him everyday. It would be fine, he wanted to spend time with our twins and I want that too, I reminded myself. "I… I think that would be good for the twins and you. Our schedule is pretty simple now that I no longer manage the Newark w*ish location. I generally work from home in the mornings and try to spend some time with the twins outside at a park or the backyard in the afternoons. I hang out with my friends a few times a week with and without the twins and I go to Mommy and Me on Thursday mornings with either Grandma Mazur, my dad or Ella," I explained. "Wow. I know that sounds kinda boring, but I _swear_ it's not boring at all. Watching the twins as they grow and discover things is kind of incredible."

"It doesn't sound boring. I'd like to be your plus one to Mommy and Me on Thursdays and your first call if you need a babysitter. I had Ella baby proof my apartment on seven and turn the office into a fully stocked nursery."

"I… I want to say yes, but I'd like you to become a little more familiar with them first," I countered cautiously. "And I understand you wanting to participate and be there, but there are a lot of people who love our raspberries and I don't want anyone to feel displaced or like now that you're here, I'm cutting them out of their bonding time."

Ranger nodded his agreement, a slight spasm of regret and shame momentarily marring his handsome features. "I understand. I'll try to give you a heads up on what my schedule will be like, but I'm settling back into my position here at RangeMan Trenton and it's never been a nine to five type of place."

"I understand and all I ask is that if you think you may not be able to make it to Mommy and Me, you give me a couple days notice. I'd rather show up with an extra person than be there alone or have to scramble for a fill in."

"That sounds fair," Ranger replied. "I'd also like to discuss child support. I've calculated what-"

"Ranger, that is _really_ not necessary. I didn't tell you for a handout and I've got everything taken care of," I countered immediately. I was worried that Ranger might be participating or contributing out of obligation rather than genuine interest despite his stated intentions. It was a bit of insecurity I'd fostered during my pregnancy that I'd never really been able to shake.

"I need to, Stephanie. It's my responsibility and my right. I can have the amount deposited directly into your account every month," Ranger countered stiffly.

"Well, I've got the daily costs covered, but maybe you could put the child support amount into a savings account as a college fund and we can collaborate on big purchases like cars, prom, and private school tuition if we decide to go that route."

"The car and private school sound good but I'm putting my foot down on my little girl going to the Prom _now_ ," he replied with a pointed glare.

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of me. Every now and then something would happen and I'd think of what Ranger's reaction would be like the first time I changed a poopy diaper or when Theo kept crying whenever he was around Lester which turned out to be a reaction to his cologne rather than the man himself. Whenever I thought of Serafina growing up, this was precisely the reaction I expected from Ranger except with more gun cleaning and glaring. "That's exactly the kind of response I expected from you. Don't worry Ranger, you have a few years before dating becomes an issue."

"I'll set up the college funds and make sure you get yearly updates on how the accounts are maturing." Ranger concluded, sidestepping the topic of Serafina growing up. "I'd also like to be officially named on the twins' birth certificates. I don't think we need to officially petition for shared custody, but I'd like for my rights to be acknowledged legally."

I took a big gulp of my now lukewarm tea as I considered his request. It wasn't unexpected for him to want to protect his rights, the officialness of it all just caught me off guard. However, despite feelings Ranger's absence over the past year and a half, I'd grown accustomed to doing things my own way and not having to defer to anyone else… not having to share my raspberries. "I'll call my lawyer to figure out what paper work is required and get the ball rolling on that."

"Thanks Stephanie. And while we're at it, we should change the twins' last name to Manoso," Ranger added casually and I felt fire rise in my chest and my face flush with anger.

"What? We are _not_ doing that. Theodore and Serafina are _Plums_ , like their mom. That's not going to change," I bit out sharply, jabbing the cracked formica table top with my finger to enunciate each statement.

"Stephanie," Ranger's threatening grumble only served to further fueled my fury.

"No Ranger, I'm not budging on this. They were born Plums and they are staying Plums," I replied hotly.

"Stephanie, it's traditional and expected for children to share their father's surname," Ranger said with a mix of condescension and annoyance.

"Lot's of things are traditional and expected, Ranger. Like the father being present for the birth of his children so he's present to weigh in on things like their last names." The second I snapped at him I regretted it. I didn't want to constantly bring up his absence during my pregnancy and the first year of the twins' lives. "Sorry Ranger, I didn't mean for that to come out so harshly. I want us to focus on out children's futures and I don't want to make you feel bad for past decisions when I know you already have regrets," I explained softly. "But I _refuse_ to budge on the last name topic."

"Fine," Ranger conceded after several tense moments of us glaring at each other, "we can shelf this for a later time."

I huffed at his inability to accept defeat and motioned for him to continue with whatever other issues he needed to voice.

Ranger continued with what I hoped was the last of his demands. "I'd also like to introduce you and the twins to my family. Not right away, but maybe in a few weeks."

"Camilla will appreciate that. She says whenever she's around family she feels like she might accidentally blurt out the truth like some sort of weird truth Tourettes. And I suppose we should officially introduce you to my family as the twins' father," I said with a smile at Ranger's discomfort at knowing an encounter with Grandma Mazur was in his future. "Anything else?"

Ranger just shook his head once in reply.

"Well then, I'd like to invite you to come by tonight to have dinner with Theo, Serafina and I."

"I'll be there," Ranger said with a soft smile playing on his lips.

He placed some money on the table and we left the cool diner for the balmy parking lot. Ranger was walking me towards my SUV when I realized I had an invitation for him. "Oh wait, I almost forgot," I said, digging through my purse to locate the zebra striped envelope addressed to Ranger, "here, this is for you."

He accepted the envelope tentatively and shot me an inquisitively raised eyebrow.

"It's an invitation for the twins' first birthday party. I planned a zoo themed barbecue at the house."

"Wow… a whole year," Ranger mumbled under his breath. "Thanks Steph, I really appreciate you including me," he replied, leaning in to give me a hug as I raised my hand to shake his. Our awkward moment ended in Ranger holding my hand and running his thumb in circles over the inside of my wrist. "What happened to us, Ba-Steph?" he asked softly, his dark gaze holding mine.

His question shocked me and I snatched my hand back from his warm grasp and fisted it at my side. "You happened, Ranger. We had something special and you threw it away," I whispered in reply before escaping to the safety of my vehicle as the first tears started to fall.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 02 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

Once I'd recovered from my stupor, I slipped on my mirrored shades and ambled back to my porsche and analyzed my conversation with Stephanie. It went better than I deserved, although I did expect her to be more receptive to talking about us as a couple.

I relished the powerful hum of the engine and decided to use the remainder of my lunch break to drive around a little. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards Route 1 when I noticed a disconcerting buzz against my skin that I hadn't felt since I finished my last mission and moved to Miami. It was a feeling I'd been trained to recognize, a feeling that spelled trouble. I was under surveillance. I was under surveillance and the person or persons likely now knew that I was linked socially to Stephanie Plum, CEO of w*ish lingerie. Fuck.

My relaxing drive turned into an exercise in shaking a tail as I racked my mind for who could be behind this new threat. Unfortunately the list of who I'd pissed off was considerable between my work for the government and RangeMan. I was very good at my job and I had the enemies to prove it.

I ran through all the tried and true standbys to shake a tail: running a red light, erratically switching lanes, driving obnoxiously slow and weaving through traffic. I called in the license plate of the 2012 white Honda Civic driven by a caucasian male approximately 5'10" to 6' with a baseball cap that I identified as my tail to the control room before giving him the slip and heading back to the office to do a little research.

I had a reputation for eliminating threats with precision and ruthlessness. The motivation I had now was nothing compared to the protective surge I felt running through my veins at the thought of someone threatening to take me from my newly discovered family or, worse, hurting me through my them. There was no lengths I wouldn't go to to keep that from happening I vowed.

Shit, Stephanie. I didn't know how this new, mature Stephanie would react to a threat, but the Stephanie I knew would balk at the restrictions I would place on her life. And I was pretty sure that this Stephanie would at least be pissed if, within days of my return to her life, I had to put her on lockdown and surround her with armed guards. On the upside, it might be the perfect excuse to have us cohabitant for the duration of the threat.

* * *

 **Unknown POV - 12 FEB 2014 (1 Year, 4 Months Ago)**

I followed the sleek, black sports car go from a private rehab clinic to a nondescript house in an upper middle class neighborhood of Trenton, New Jersey lovingly known as America's armpit. This fucker led an incredibly dull life. I was almost tempted to break my cover and shoot at him to break up the monotony. Home to rehab and rehab to home, every fucking day.

And everything was black. What the hell was that? Was this jackass lazy or just colorblind? His car and the vehicles of anyone who came to visit him were black as well as their clothes. My money was on his adherence to monochromatic-ness being a reflection of his personality. His reputation painted him as being a workaholic with laser like focus, superior tactical acumen, and impressive leadership capability.

Unfortunately, there was no mention of him being a good little mercenary who always follows orders without discrimination.

That was also the reason I was in this shit hole and following him around and trying to find a point of vulnerability I could exploit. So far his heroic actions had cost me millions of dollars and I wasn't any closer to evening the score. Everyone in his life was an employee or colleague and was almost asa formidable as he was. Definitely not the soft targets I was hoping for.

One more week, I wagered. I'd give it one more week at which point he'd be healed enough to pursue more of a social life, or whatever counted as a social life for a mercenary robot. If by then things hadn't changed, I'd outsource the surveillance and see if I could go after his business instead. It seemed to be the only thing in his life worth taking away.

Either way, I was going to make the _mighty_ Manoso pay for what he'd done. He owed me a debt and I intended to collect.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 02 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

After changing into some black slacks and a black cashmere sweater Ella had purchased for me, I stopped by the control room on the fifth floor to check in on things and confirm that nothing would interrupt my evening with Stephanie and our children.

"Report," I barked at Binkie and Cal who were manning the monitors.

"All clear," Cal replied.

I nodded in acknowledgment and checked out all of the monitor screens before heading towards the stairwell. Unfortunately, I ran into a smirking Lester on the way. "Wow Ranger, you clean up nice," he teased, "trying to impress the twins?"

I glared at him menacingly and shoved past him to the stairs. Jackass couldn't help needling me.

"Wait, Ranger," Lester said with rare sincerity, "it's gonna be fine. You smoothed things over with Steph, that was the hard part. Just enjoy your time with them and be present."

I lightly huffed out a breath and shook his outstretched hand.

"Don't you hurt them, Ranger, because family or not, I'll kick your ass. We all will," Lester warned my back as I walked to the stairwell.

"You won't get the chance," I replied before jogging down the stairs. I slipped into my porsche and zipped out of the RangeMan Trenton garage towards my family as I reviewed the information on babies I'd amassed over the past several days. I was going to do this and it was going to be good.


	19. Chapter 15

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

Thank you for all of your favorites, follows, and reviews! I'll do my best to speed up the updates.

* * *

 **Part III. "A WISH is a powerful thing, especially when it comes from the heart." - Jiminy Cricket**

 **Chapter 15**

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 02 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

"Hey Duncan," I answered my phone as I flitted around the kitchen, preparing a quick greek salad as part of our dinner with Ranger.

"I just got a chance to check into your question,"

"Thanks for getting back to me so quickly," I replied. I'd called him after my lunch with Ranger about the paperwork required to add Ranger to the raspberries' birth certificates, "what do we need to do?"

"You and Mr…" Duncan hedged.

"I'm pretty sure as my lawyer, you're not allowed to hold your advice hostage," I snarked, realizing that given Duncan's innate curiosity, he wouldn't want to impart the information I needed unless I named the twins' father.

"Fine," he huffed, "But for the record, I knew something was up because Victoria's been kinda squirrely and tense for about two weeks now."

"Yes, you're incredibly attuned to your girlfriend's headspace. Now, what do I need to do to update the birth certificates?"

"You have to fill out a Certificate of Parentage which you can do at the local registrar or County Welfare Agency. It should be fairly painless."

I snorted. Nothing about officially naming Ranger as my baby daddy was going to be painless. "And I promise, once he and I get a few more things figured out, I'll introduce him to you, the legal genius that helped me get w*ish up and running," I offered as I placed the hummus and tzatziki I'd prepared earlier on the oak table in kitchen's breakfast nook.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," Duncan said. "And if you need anything else, let me know."

"Thanks Duncan. Have fun tonight at Taco Tuesdays," I teased.

Victoria wanted them to start doing more things as a couple and decided to pair that with her goal to finally learn how to cook. She was the queen of multitasking and had sworn off her takeout diet about eight months ago when it started to impact her dress size. Since then she'd stopped by my place for dinner a few times a week. Who would've thought that I'd be the one of us to regularly prepare healthy, homemade meals? Definitely not me.

"Bye Steph," Duncan said and waited for my response before hanging up.

I finished placing the tray of falafel wraps on the table with our place settings and the twins' plates of steamed eggplant cubes, whole wheat cracker bits, hummus and tzatziki. I finally dragged myself from nervously fussing around kitchen and went to the living room where Serafina was playing with a puzzle of basic shapes and Theo was crawling around while pushing a plastic car on an infant race track.

"What are you two up to?" I cooed as I kneeled down on the aged blue and grey patterned rug between my raspberries. I was helping Theo slide his car down the ramp when the doorbell announced Ranger's arrival. "Alright raspberries, someone's here to meet you. He's not much for talking, so feel free to dominate the conversation, okay?" I said, giving them quick kisses and straightening my ensemble of skinny jeans and an blue sweater that hung off my left shoulder.

A chorus of "bye bye's" rang out with some clapping as I headed to the door. I opened the door to find Ranger clad in dark jeans and a black sweater that was molded to accentuate his muscles. We just stood for a few moments, taking each other in, both of us aware of the monumental step we were about to take but neither brave enough to voice it.

"Hi Ranger," I said when we were straddling the line between contemplative and awkward, "you're right on time. Come on in." I held the door open and stepped to the side so he could enter the foyer.

"Ella sent this for you," Ranger said, handing me a tupperware with what I suspected was a generous slice of pineapple upside-down cake. Despite a handful of attempts at teaching me that particular culinary masterpiece, I never really got the hang of it.

"Thanks! Ella is amazing," I smiled. As far as hostess gifts went, this was by far superior to flowers or wine. "You ready?" I asked Ranger as I nodded my head towards the living room and led the way.

"I don't know if I'll ever feel ready, but this is exactly where I want to be."

I led him past the the dining room and the hallway that led to the guest room to the living room where Serafina and Theo were playing and engaging in baby babbling with an occasional real word thrown in to mix things up. The second Theo noticed me, he greeted me with an excited "Mama! Mama!" followed closely by Serafina. I could feel Ranger's steps falter as his gaze flitted over our children, drinking them in and committing every detail to memory.

"Hey raspberries, there's someone who's really been looking forward to meeting you," I announced as I crouched down and swiveled them to face Ranger with their bright, half toothy and half gummy smiles. "Ranger, I'd like to introduce you to Serafina Rosa Plum and Theodore Dante Plum," I announced, blinking the prickle of tears back and looking up at his rigid stance at the edge of the rug. "Serafina, Theo, this is your Daddy."

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 02 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

I was frozen at the edge of Stephanie's living room, unable to pierce the bubble surrounding them with my dark solitude. I stared in awe at our children, the perfect mix of Stephanie's delicate features and my more exotic ones.

"Ranger? Ranger, come on, join us," Stephanie's attempt to get my attention finally drew me back to the present.

I nodded and sat down on the floor across from Stephanie. Theo was snuggled shyly into her side wearing a navy sweater covered in an anchor print over a white collared shirt. Serafina was leaning into Stephanie's other side as she attempted to stand, the tulle skirt of her purple dress swishing with her movements as she juggled balancing and looking curiously up at me.

I sat there silently for a moment, unsure of what to do. Luckily, Stephanie read my uncertainty and took pity on me. "Ranger, will you help Serafina walk over to you?" she said, her hands placed protectively in front of her stomach and at her back as she took a tentative step forwards, "just let her hold your fingers in her hands." Stephanie gave me an encouraging smile as I leaned forward and a silent tear rolled down the side of her face as Serafina grasped my wings with an excited giggle. I helped steady her as she took the few remaining steps to me. She'd just about gotten to where I was seated when she stumbled on the carpet and I instinctively wrapped her protectively in my arms. I looked at Stephanie and the slight panic in my eyes was pushed aside by her smile and Serafina's little arms wrapped around my neck and she giggled into my shoulder. "Good job Fi!"

"I… I can't believe they can walk," I said in awe as Serafina made an exaggerated kiss noise and bumped her lips clumsily against the stubble on my jaw before slumping down into my lap.

" _Walk_ is a little generous for what they're doing, but I agree. It seems like just yesterday when they were learning how to crawl."

"Mama, mama," Serafina squealed, drawing my gaze down to see her clapping her hands against mine while bouncing up and down. The word caught me off guard and I couldn't help but regret the time and experiences I'd already missed out on.

"Looks like Theo's getting curious," Stephanie said and I looked up to see Theo crawling towards me, his dark eyes fixed quizzically on mine. I shifted Serafina so they could both fit on my lap. I brushed a light kiss over each of their temples as I catalogued their actions. Serafina seemed more outgoing whereas Theo was more analytical and reserved until he felt comfortable. I'm not sure how long I sat there, watching them entertain themselves as a strange feeling of peace and contentment fell over me. The flash from Stephanie's camera phone snapped me from my reverie and I looked up to see her sparkling blue eyes.

Her shrug in response to my raised eyebrow was punctuated by her stomach growling.

"Time to feed the beast?" I teased.

"That was actually pretty tame compared to how it sounded during my pregnancy," she tittered before growing distant once again after a look of surprise flashed across her features. She hastily headed for the table ensconced in the kitchen surrounded on three sides by window seats. "Can you bring the raspberries over to the table?" she tossed over her shoulder as she moved to dismantle the table portion off one of the highchairs.

I wrapped my arms around my wriggling, babbling bundles and carefully headed to Stephanie with the same care I employed when handling IEDs. I had several nieces and nephews, but I rarely spent time with them when they were infants and I'd never noticed just how fragile they were. I watched in awe at the ease with which Stephanie strapped the twins into the highchairs before we settled into the recessed, cushioned seats on either side of the twins for what was sure to be an uncomfortable and stunted dinner conversation. At least the twins were there to keep us distracted and provide us with a common focal point.

"Steph, how did you pick their names?" I asked before drizzling some tzatziki over my wrap as we watched the twins mush their eggplant pieces into hummus.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 29 MAY 2014 (1 Year Ago)**

"Bedrest isn't _so_ bad," Grandma Mazur noted as she settled in against my headboard with snacks. I'd been put on two weeks of bedrest due to stress and high blood pressure and Grandma Mazur decided to suffer through it with me. Of course, it'd been less than 24 hours and since she came we just binge watched Nikita on Netflix in bed while munching our way through several hundred dollars worth of snack food.

"It's okay so far, but you don't have to stay with me. I've got all my work stuff and a few other things I need to do." I offered as I took a bite of an apple cinnamon scone that Ella'd sent over with Grandma Mazur.

"Nah, my plans with Bernie Markowitz fell through because his hip broke and I'd much rather hang with you and watch this badass chic on tv than hang with Helen. Besides, you don't have a hunky man to make bedrest worthwhile so I don't feel bad about just showing up."

"You're welcome anytime," I replied, "actually, I'm glad you stopped by, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What's going on?" she replied, shifting her bony frame to face as she dug into the chips and salsa Ella had set over a few days ago.

"I wanted to talk to you about the raspberries' names."

"Ooh, did you finally pick?" she asked excitedly. We'd talked about baby names a few times, but had gotten sidetracked by impractical names like Gotham and Thor.

"Well, I've decided on Theodore and either Dahlia or Serafina," I answered while fidgeting with the fringe of my throw blanket. "I took that American poetry class at Rutgers and most of it went right over my head but I liked a few of his poems, they really resonated with me." I shrugged and rolled my eyes at Grandma's skeptical look and continued with my explanation, "I came across a paper I'd written about his poem _Open House_ which was about finding yourself when I first moved into my crummy apartment after the Dickie debacle and it was part of the reason I started taking design classes."

"Hmm," Grandma Mazur hummed in thought before sending me a definitive nod, "we can call him Theo for short! It's a solid, hottie name," she winked at me in approval.

"Anyways," I chortled, rubbing a hand over my very pregnant belly. "I wanted to ask you which you preferred, Serafina or Dahlia for my baby girl raspberry?"

"Serafina or Dahlia, huh?"

"I wanted to name her after you," I offered softly with a shrug. Serafina was a woman Grandma Mazur had known when she was a teenager and had become an honorary aunt and Dahlia was a translation of Grandma Mazur's middle name from the harsher Hungarian to English. As much as I loved her and wanted to honor her by naming my daughter after her, I didn't actually want to give birth to an Edna. I just couldn't do it. Luckily, Grandma Mazur was known to grumble about her name claiming she was more of a Roxanne or Crystal.

"You know what I admired most about Aunt Serafina?" Grandma Mazur began pensively, "she was never concerned with anything but what she felt was right in her heart. She didn't cower to her parents or society."

"I remember you telling me that. She refused to get married and became a nurse who worked for the military."

"Well, that was the kid-friendly version I told you. But the truth was that she'd fallen in love but her beau was conscripted during World War II before they could get married. Her family was affluent and he wanted to make something of himself before asking for her hand."

"So why didn't they get married?"

"She would occasionally receive word from him, but after around a year, he stopped writing. He was presumed dead and she dedicated her life to helping wounded soldiers hoping she could save someone else's beau from a similar fate."

"So she never moved on?"

"Nope," Grandma Mazur said, snapping her dentures slightly, "she said she'd had the real thing and she wouldn't settle for less. She encouraged me to do the same in love and life, but I didn't get the hang of it until the past few years."

"I'm sure she's proud of you," I offered, grateful that Grandma Mazur had passed forward Aunt Serafina's gift of support to me. "That is heartbreakingly tragic though. I can't even imagine…" I trailed off, contemplating her loss.

"Can't you?" Grandma Mazur asked with a sharp, assessing gaze, knowing full well that despite being furious at Ranger, I wanted him healthy and happy. "Don't worry, your hunky man will make his way home safe. After all, those muscles can't _all_ be for eye candy!" Grandma Mazur tittered. "Speaking of him, didn't you want to name one of the gummy bears after or for him?"

"Well, the guys gave me a list of names _not_ to use," I offered, recalling the somewhat repetitive lists both Tank and Lester had given me with names of existing relatives, ex-girlfriends, frenemies and enemies so Ranger wouldn't have a negative association with their names. Lester's list ended in a suggesting that I consider naming both twins Lester, just to be on the safe side. "Actually, though," I cleared my throat before continuing. We weren't a family that did sappy or sentimental and this was a little close to that vicinity for my taste. Especially when I was on bed rest and couldn't physically avoid anyone if they didn't want to be ignored. "I decided to pick middle names for him. Dante for his uncle that he looks up to and is kinda a father figure and Rosa for his grandmother who partially raised him," I explained. As my friendship with Ranger evolved, he shared that the best parts of him, of the man that he was and is, came from his Abuela Rosa and Tio Dante (Spanish: Grandma Rosa and Uncle Dante), and those are the parts I want the raspberries to know and have.

"Well, I think those names sound perfect for these two," Grandma announced with a nod, placing a hand on my stomach. "Theodore Dante and Serafina Rosa."

"I think so too!" I mirrored her wide smile before stuffing a Dorito smothered in nutella into my mouth. What? It's delicious.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 02 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

After dinner and cleaning up the dinner that the twins (mostly Theo) ended up wearing in stead of eating, I watched and occasionally helped as Stephanie seamlessly balanced cleaning up, answering a quick work phone call, a boisterous bath time and getting the twins ready for bed. I was impressed that the slightly impetuous, brazen woman I'd known and fallen for who could barely manage to keep a pet hamster alive (who was currently nowhere to be seen) had morphed into a the multitasking, unflustered woman before me who was settled into a rocking chair with Theo snuggled against her chest as she stroked his back and hummed absentmindedly.

I was sitting next to her in a chair she'd retrieved from her office with Serafina similarly floating off the precipice of consciousness. I'd gotten a snapshot of various moments I'd missed as our activities moved us through the house and I was thrilled every time that she made a conscious effort to include me in their daily routine. Well, almost every time. I could've done without diaper duty and I still needed to settle on a retaliation plan for Stephanie not warning me that Theo would pee the second his diaper came off so I needed to be prepared. While I hadn't been prepared for that, I did have a spare RangeMan t-shirt in my car and the laughter that lit up Stephanie's face almost bringing her to tears as she borrowed my catch phrase and told me I needed to be more aware of my surroundings was almost worth it. Unfortunately she was right. I guess I needed to increase my field time to get my reflexes back in shape if I was going to be on diaper duty in the future.

I looked around the superhero themed nursery again, my eyes drifting over my family and then focusing on the picture of a very pregnant Stephanie. It was black and white and beautiful, you could see the love she had for the raspberries shining in her eyes and sent a sting of regret through me every time I looked at it. A beautiful reminder of what I'd stupidly walked away from.

I noticed Stephanie slowly move towards the crib with Superman bedding and lay Theo gently down before tucking him snugly into bed and I mirrored her actions with Serafina. We were watching over our raspberries as they slept, occasionally emitting soft snoring noises, standing side by side and my arm instinctively gravitated around her shoulders.

I only realized that I'd reached out for her when she stiffened slightly in my hold before forcing herself to adopt a more relaxed posture. We weren't where we'd once been, but the fact that she didn't shove me away was enough for me to catalogue it as a win.

"Thank you," I whispered with my head angled down towards her, my breath fluttering her curly hair.

She looked up at me, her lips quirk up in a slight smile. "Does this mean you're not gonna retaliate for me not warning you when you changed Theo's diaper?" she asked teasingly.

"Not a chance Ba-Steph."

"If it makes you feel any better, Theo's tagged quite a few people so you're in good company," she offered with a shrug.

"It doesn't, but I may start using him as part of our RangeMan training regiment to evaluate reflexes and courage," I replied dryly, relieved at how normal this exchange felt. Stephanie's eyes lit up in response and I could tell she was imagining how some of my men would handle that particular brand of testing.

Our silent moment was disrupted by the buzzing of my phone and at Stephanie's shushing motion, I left the room to answer the call while I wandered down the upstairs hallway into what looked like Stephanie's office. "Tank," I answered brusquely as I looked at the sketches of some impressively risqué lingerie that were laying on her drawing desk.

"The car was stolen one state over and a dead end. We finished running down all active threats to you, and there's no clear indication who would be behind you being tailed or why. Do you have any ideas as to why now?" Tank replied perfunctorily.

"There's always the chance that someone foreign managed to get lucky and catch my trail, but it's unlikely. And if no FTAs are viable threats, that only leaves someone local," I replied knowing Tank would understand my meaning. We were all too careful to be easily tracked by the foreign organizations we'd been sent on missions to infiltrate, dismantle, and neutralize so that left someone who could tie the faceless mercenary to my real identity, someone who was supposed to be on my side.

"Dramatic much?"

"We've seen it happen before," I replied stiffly. Generally we'd look into foreign threats a little more thoroughly before looking closer to home, but the stakes were too high now, I thought as I moved over to the bookcase that housed several material samples, lingerie mock ups, files and one shelf dedicated to the twins. I ran my finger over the spine of a photo album before taking it with me as I settled into the awkwardly ergonomic desk chair.

"I'll start searches on people you've worked with starting with the past ten years. Do you have anyone we should bump to the top of the list?"

"Start with the most recent clusterfuck. There were a lot of things that didn't add up with the original intel we were given and it was all brushed off as par for the course, but it seemed a little too neat and consistently wrong to seem innocent."

"I'll have the backgrounds run and ready for you, Brown, Santos and I to review by COB tomorrow."

"We'll meet the next morning to review findings," I replied.

"Should we invite Stephanie to the meeting," Tank asked tentatively.

I scrubbed a hand over my face as I reflected on the life Stephanie had built for herself and our children. She was happy and comfortable with herself and her life in a way that I'd never seen when she worked for me. I didn't want to unnecessarily worry her, or worse, have her associate me with danger to our children's lives. "No, no need," I replied before ending the call. There was no proof that whoever was tailing me had linked me to Stephanie or the twins and there wouldn't be if I had anything to say about it.

There was a disconcerting weight pushing down on my chest that I'd never experienced before when faced with an unknown threat and it was decidedly unwelcome. I took a deep breath to clear my mind and better analyze my course of action to eliminate the problem and felt the edge of the album digging into palm where I had it gripped tightly.

The album was striped pastel green and yellow (it seemed Stephanie shied away from the more traditional pink and blue) with a picture two tightly swaddled, wrinkly newborns in Stephanie's arms. She looked in awe and exhilarated despite her pallor and her sweat matted curls sticking to her forehead and neck. I ran my fingers along the features of our children's faces, noticing how a few of their features had changed over the past year, especially Serafina's eyes which started out a striking blue just like her mother's.

I opened the album to pages with plastic pouches that held six 4x6 pictures each. The first few pages included pictures taken from the hospital. There were several of each of the twins and Stephanie and the three of them with Stephanie's family (though her mother's pinched expressed only graced one photo), friends, and several of my men. I flipped the page to find an image of Tank and Lester driving Stephanie flanked by our twins in matching carseats. Theo was looking out the window with wide eyes and Serafina was sleeping but had a little fist wrapped tightly around one of Stephanie's fingers.

The image was like a sucker punch to the kidneys. It was like I was watching frozen moments from my life but I'd been replaced. Ella helped Stephanie change her diet to be pregnancy friendly, Edna had been with Stephanie when she gave birth, Lester and Tank drove my children home from the hospital, and I was fighting in some South American hell hole completely unaware of how monumentally my life had changed.

"That was a pretty crazy day," Stephanie said softly. My neck snapped up to find her looking over my shoulder at the photo album in my lap. I hadn't even heard her amble into the room after me. "I didn't know Tank could experience road rage, but since he didn't want to use his loud CO voice and risk scaring the twins or worse, making them cry, he would just glare at anyone who tailgated or didn't use their turn signals. Lester egging him on didn't really help, but they got us home safely and helped me get settled."

"Ba-Steph," I said softly, unable to keep a flash of regret from flitting across my face before I was able to school my features into my customary blank mask. "I'm sorry I missed so much."

Stephanie stopped herself from reaching out to touch my shoulder and bit her lip, contemplating what to say. "I'm not saying I didn't miss you and wish you had been here to share in some of the experiences or help when things got tough, but there's no point in wishing things were different. Trust me," she offered with a shrug and small, encouraging smile. "You're here _now_ and… and that's what's important."

I nodded once in reply and continued to flip through the album with Stephanie filling details of the photographed events.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 03 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

"So what do you think Beautiful?" Lester asked me, holding out a rose gold ring with a glittering round champagne diamond and vintage accents for my inspection.

"Huh? Sorry- I spaced for a second," I mumbled as I shook myself back to the present where I was leaning against a glass counter top at Sheffield Jewelers looking at the engagement ring Lester had chosen for Calista. "It's gorgeous. Calista's gonna love it!" I exclaimed as I examined the ring. "So, do you have everything ready for Saturday?"

Lester's calm, cocky demeanor had been slipping gradually the closer the date of his planned proposal came and I fully expected him to have a fit worthy of Naomi Campbell over something like not having enough candles or too much wind on the day of. Personally, I thought it was fair given that he'd spent so much of his time not really putting in any effort with women aside from using his smile and a cheesy pickup line.

"Yeah, everything's ready for the beach proposal and the dinner with our friends afterwards at La Dolce Vita in Belmar," Lester replied. "Are you still okay to help set things up? Tank, Bobby, Ranger and Victoria are gonna be there too, so…"

"Of course I'll be there. Ranger's life and mine overlap in way too many ways for me to shy away from things just to avoid him."

"And how _is_ that overlap?" Lester joked, bumping into my shoulder with his.

"It's fine, everything's _fine_."

"Stephanie?" Lester said, drawling out my name and giving me a knowing look.

"It's okay, it's just weird. Like we're strangers trying to force ourselves back into the roles of close friends," I explained with a frustrated huff. "It's only been a day since he's really been back in my life and he seems really committed to being a constant in the raspberries lives, but…"

"But he's taking over a little bit?" Lester filled in.

"Yeah, kinda. Like he's planning on spending his evenings at my house every day and he wants to come to Mommy and Me, and I'm glad that he wants to do those things, but there are people who fill those roles in the twins' lives. I don't want everyone who's been here for us to think that just because Ranger's back, they're being replaced and their support and time means nothing."

"No one thinks that Beautiful," Lester offered, slinging his arm around my shoulders as the mousy jeweler boxed his purchase.

"Ugh, I know," I huffed, "when Dad and Grandma came to babysit today I told them that Ranger would be taking over Mommy and Me duties and they were both kinda bummed. Oh and Dad wants to have a talk with Ranger now that he knows for sure who the twins' father is."

"Oooh can I be there for that? I don't know when the last time Ranger actually _met the parents_ , if ever, and I kinda want to see how that goes. It can be your engagement gift to me," Lester joked, ruffling my hair.

"Somehow I doubt Ranger'll want an audience for that conversation."

"Well, for what it's worth, Ranger's been… lighter since he's been back, more like himself rather than the robot version he's been since he got tapped to go on that last mission."

"Hmmm," I responded, trying not to read too much into Lester's insight. "Anyways… I think we need to run through the plan for this Saturday to make sure we've got everything covered."

"Smooth segue, Beautiful," Lester pointed out dryly before an excited grin crossed his features and he began going through the details for his proposal which he'd dubbed Operation: Put a Ring On It. Apparently he's a closet BeyHiver.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 04 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

I pulled into a parking spot and clenched the steering wheel in frustration. "I am going to _destroy_ him," I grunted softly so as not to alarm the twins.

"Who?" Stephanie asked absentmindedly as she hefted her polka dotted diaper bag from the floorboard of my Porsche Cayenne.

"The guy driving that pickup truck who was riding my bumper and apparently has no use for turning signals," I grit out as I began formulating a plan to creatively teach him about driving etiquette.

Stephanie snapped up in her seat and faced me, her riotous curls fanning out around her face. "Ranger, you can't go after everyone who drive aggressively in New Jersey! That would be like 80% of the population," she exclaimed with a wide eyed look before getting out of the car and opening the backseat door to fuss with Theo's carseat. He was still a little shy around me and tended to prefer his mother, not that I could blame him. I think he'd warmed up to me a bit more over the past two evenings and this morning when I helped with the twins' morning routine which was just as messy as their nighttime routine but a little more drowsy eyed and accompanied by a slightly grouchy Stephanie.

I levered out of the car and pulled Serafina into my arms before joining Stephanie who was headed towards a storefront with a red door and a sign that read 'Get Ahead!'. " _This_ is Mommy and Me?" I checked with Stephanie as we entered the building with a little jingle caused by the flower themed bells hooked to the door. There was a small foyer area with a desk and small sitting area beyond which there was a room with a colorful foam floor rug, several toys and fellow parents with their toddlers.

Stephanie led me to the desk where an older woman with red glasses was shuffling through some papers. "Patricia, I'd like to introduce you to Ranger Manoso, he's the twins' father," Stephanie introduced me in a rushed blur of words, clearly nervous.

She shook my outstretched hand with a warn, motherly smile devoid of judgement for my absence until now. I'd done a basic background check on her when I found out this would be added to my weekly agenda and her lack of criticism wasn't surprising given the rave reviews I'd found regarding her establishment.

"So, will you be filling in as Stephanie's plus one from now on?" Patricia asked me as she tickled Serafina's bumblebee covered stomach and led us towards the main room.

I nodded and followed her and Stephanie into to room, listening to their conversation.

"I'm glad the twins are getting to spend time with their father, but I'm gonna miss practicing my dusty Italian with Frank," Patricia said as we walked around the circle of toddlers and their parents who were eyeing me curiously and a little lustfully.

"Dad was pretty disappointed too, but he demanded to be Ranger's stand in if he couldn't make it," Stephanie offered genuinely with a soft smile as Theo vied for her attention by tugging on her sweater collar. "Besides, you'll still have plenty of chances to practice your Italian like at the twins' first birthday party."

"So what did you decide on?"

"The backyard barbecue-picnic mashup with a zoo theme. I've got invites to hand out to everyone here."

"Sounds fun! I can't wait to celebrate the first year of these two," Patricia said, leaving us at an opening in the group of fellow Mommy and Me participants between a guy who was furtively checking out Stephanie's legs and an Indian woman playing with a bubbly little boy.

I glared at the guy who averted his gaze back to the pouty child in his lap and maneuvered so that I would be sitting between Stephanie and the creep. We settled into our seats and I caught Stephanie roll her eyes at the over-tanned trophy wife sitting across from us who was fluttering her eyelashes at me.

"Jealous Babe-Steph?" I whispered at her and smirked slightly at her huffy snort.

"Everyone, we have a new member today and you know what that means. Time for another round of introductions," Patricia announced as she took her place in the circle. "Ranger, would you like to get us started? Just give us your name and fun fact about yourself."

Forced socializing, how _thrilling_ , I thought with a grimace.

"Ranger Manoso, I am one of the partners at RangerMan Security."

"Wow, you two are quite the power couple," a woman with a slightly pinched expression said with an air approval.

"Thank you," I said over Stephanie's "No, no. We're- _no_ ," and spastic head shaking.

The woman next to Stephanie chortled and took pity on our awkwardness. "I'm Gargi Dev and this is my son Abhishek. I'm a dance teacher and my husband and I have two daughters," she said, adeptly removing her son's hand from her long plait and waving it at me.

"We are Courtney and Hannah. I'm a full time mommy and I have two little hellions in preschool," the woman next to Gargi said, ruffling her daughter's wispy, strawberry blonde hair as she gave everyone a dimpled smile.

"Vera Monroe and Peter," the uppity woman with the pinched expression introduced herself. "I own Monroe Gallery and my husband is a successful businessman," she shared with an air of stuffy importance. I was pretty surprised she even deigned to attend a Mommy and Me group when she could just pawn the responsibility off on an underpaid nanny.

"I'm Trisha, this is Daisy," the flirty, overly-coiffed woman across from me introduced, "and I would really like to talk to you about home security. My husband Chester Bishop is kinda high profile and he's gone a lot and I think having someone I could rely on for security would make me feel so much better." Stephanie snorted at Trisha's not-so-subtle overture which led Gargi and and the woman next to Trisha to snicker.

" _Anyways_ ," the woman next to Trisha said with a conspiratorial eye roll directed at Stephanie, "I'm Amelia Vaughn and this little guy is Jackson," she said with a smile. "Oh, and I'm an English Professor."

"This is my son Parker," the guys next to me said with a proud grin that seemed inherent to all parents. "I'm Bradley Ames, the executive chef at Bon Vivant, and as much as I'll miss Edna Mazur, it's nice to have a fellow father here at Mommy and Me."

"You still need a majority before we discuss changing the name from Mommy and Me," Patricia chortled. Clearly they'd had this discussion before.

I wasn't really a fan of group activities, but at least the required introductions provided the intel required to perform background checks and make sure my children weren't being socialized with anyone sketchy. Although it didn't seem promising given that the progeny of Chester Bishop, shady defense attorney with the who's who of criminal clientele, was in attendance.

"Alright everyone, we're going to start with a little dancercize," Patricia announced as she turned on some music.

I leaned towards Stephanie as she and the other parents helped balance their children as they stood and began bopping to the music and clapping. "Dancercize. Seriously?" I asked dryly as Serafina exuberantly twisted to the music and squealed excitedly, softening my blank expression to a soft smile.

Stephanie giggled lightly and smiled up at me as she realized I was actually enjoying how much Serafina and Theo were enjoying dancercize. "Welcome to fatherhood, Ranger."

* * *

A/N: Theodore Reothke was a poet, author and Pulitzer Prize winner. A few of his better known works are Open House (about finding yourself), The Walking (about evaluating your place in the world), and Words for the Wind (about love/spirituality and its place in life).


	20. Chapter 16

A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.

I'm baaaaack! Sorry for the delay - life and stuff happens and I wanted to zany up the plot a little and not just churn it out too perfunctory like. Hopefully it's still interesting and the (massive) delay hasn't been too disappointing. Thank you for all of the follows/favorites/reviews; I appreciate the support and encouragement and I'll do my best to update more regularly.

Also, this has NOT been proof read... just a heads up.

* * *

 **Part III. "A WISH is a powerful thing, especially when it comes from the heart." - Jiminy Cricket**

 **Chapter 16**

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 05 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

"Hmm… could you move it a bit to the left? I liked it better a little closer to the fire pit," I called to Ranger as he finally relented to the sticky heat and pulled his t-shirt off to wipe the sweat from his face and chest before tossing it onto the recently cut grass.

Over the past several days, we'd settled into an awkwardly polite friendship, tiptoeing around each other as we attempted to co-parent. Every now and then, one of us would fall back to the easy going, borderline flirty banter that had reigned our relationship prior to him unceremoniously dumping him. Ranger was content to push those boundaries, but I recoiled whenever I accidentally fell into the familiarity we used to share.

He shifted the round bali bed closer to the stone fire pit in my backyard before turning to face me. He crossed his arms across the expanse of his chest and gave me a pointed look with a raised eyebrow. "Satisfied?" Ranger asked with a smirk. Apparently my borderline ogling of his body wasn't quite as surreptitious as I'd intended. Smug jerk.

"It looks great. Thank you for moving it there Ranger," I said, hoping my cheery tone would cover the stiffness I felt. I chose to ignore the muttered "for moving it there and back and there and back and there again," as he joined me in the shade of a huge maple tree, ruffling the raspberries' hair as he passed them in their walkers.

Ranger had stopped by after finishing up a client meeting in Newark and offered to help me set up the newly delivered backyard furniture in preparation for the twins' birthday party, and I may have taken advantage of his generosity a bit.

"I can't believe they're walking already," I said as watched Serafina shuffle her way back towards us with Theo following closely.

"Ba-Steph," Ranger said with a dry huff, "they're not really walking."

"Ugh, fine," I replied with an eye roll, "they're close and with all of your Batman genes, it's only a matter of time until they're waking up during those pesky AM hours that most people sleep through to go jogging."

"What other prep do we need to do for the birthday party?" Ranger asked.

"Prep?" I scoffed, "it's not a mission, Ranger. It's a party."

"One woman's party is another man's battleground fraught with small talk and family."

"Speaking of," I segued, pulling a squealing Serafina from her walker and into my lap. She immediately busied herself playing with a RangeMan Build-a-Bear complete with plush handcuffs, black CAT boots, and a flak vest with RangeMan emblazoned on it. Ella had gotten them on behalf of everyone at RangeMan Trenton for the raspberries for their first Christmas and thankfully ignored Lester's insistence on including a foam gun for accuracy. "I sent invites to the Merry Men, Ella, my family, friends, w*ish colleagues, and the people from Mommy and Me. Who from your friends and family do you want to invite?"

"Well, Camilla and her… _friend_ ," Ranger said stiffly, "although I suspect you've already invited them."

"Yeah, Camilla and Tucker have already been invited. And he's her boyfriend and business partner, either term is acceptable."

"She's my baby-sister," he growled as he scooped Theo out of his walker and held him against his still shirtless chest. He helped Theo stand, leaning against his solid chest as he tested his stability. Theo's look of concentration clearly mirrored Ranger's face though Ranger's had a richer hue and was haloed by straighter hair.

" _Sure_ , Ranger. She's your 31 year old _baby_ -sister," said with feigned sincerity. "I'm thinking we should deliver the invitation to your parents in person when we share the news?" I asked, hopefully masking the anxiety I felt at having to not only meet the bat-family, but tell them I sorta kept their bat-grandkids a secret from them for just shy of a year.

"They're out of town for the next ten days. I've made plans for us to go to dinner there that Friday," Ranger announced offhandedly.

"You _what_?" I squealed, snapping my neck to face him.

"I made plans for dinner," he reiterated slowly. "We talked about sharing the news with them," Ranger replied, clearly not understanding my shock.

"W-b-yeah, I-I know we talked about it, but you have to give me a heads up when you make plans that involve me and the twins," I sputtered.

"Noted," Ranger said dryly, clearly annoyed at my response. "I'll be sure to run plans regarding our children by you in the future."

"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way," I replied softly, "I guess I'm not used to have to share the parenting stuff."

We passed a few minutes with the only sounds coming from the twins as they excitedly chattered with a smattering of "Mama's" and "bye-bye's" every once in a while.

"So, are we going to be meeting your whole family or just your parents?" I asked. Camilla had mentioned a lot of things about their siblings since we'd met. After the shock of the raspberries being her niece and nephew, she'd given my a full rundown of all of their other siblings, enough to be wary and know that the news of Ranger's insta-family wouldn't be all that well received.

"Just my parents, grandmother, and Camilla. I figured it would be nice to have someone in our corner."

"Not brave enough to break the news to all of your siblings at the same time?" I joked, glad that I'd be meeting the bat-family in pieces.

"Neither one of us is brave enough for that," Ranger joked, falling back onto the blanket and holding giggling Theo up above him. "I'd rather face a cartel hit squad. Trust me, it's less stressful and oblique."

Great, something to look forward to.

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 06 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

"I'm not hiding in the dark," Ranger retorted, shutting down Sofia, Lester's little sister.

Buzzing with giddy energy, she'd latched onto our wrists the second we arrived and pulled us into the dark party room lit only by candles on the tables at La Dolce Vita, an Italian restaurant overlooking the beach in Belmar. It was where Lester had brought Calista for their first real date after months of late night trysts. Most of the other guests had already arrived and were contributing to the low hum of conversation. Apparently they'd all agreed to the hide in the dark to surprise Calista when she and Lester arrived, newly engaged.

Sofia just rolled her eyes at Ranger and drew us further into the room. "Steph, you _have_ to make him. You yell at those jerk manufacturing guys all the time and they listen. Just use your scary, loud, mom voice."

I rolled my eyes at the thought that any one, even his real mom, could get Ranger to do something he didn't want to do was laughable. But for Lester and Calista, I thought I'd give it a chance. "Just do it, Ranger. Besides, you hide in the dark all the time."

"Only when I'm taking down hardened criminals," Ranger retorted, clearly affronted at my equating his professional ventures to something as frivolous as a surprise party.

"You played peek-a-boo with the raspberries yesterday," I pointed out, "that's kinda like hiding in the dark."

"No, it isn't," he gritted out in a low growl. Clearly he was embarrassed by his cousin's introduction to his playful, dad-side. "Besides, I was hiding behind my hand, not in a dark room," he muttered before relenting to Sofia's pulling and following her into the room.

"You're right, peek-a-boo and surprise parties are _nothing_ like skulking in the shadows to apprehend bad guys," I replied solemnly, patting his back before following Sofia only to crash into her at her abrupt stop. Even in the shadowed room, I could read the shock on her face as she registered our familiarity.

"What the hell is going on? Do you two _know_ each other?" she whisper-shouted accusingly at us, her inquisitive glare waffling between us. "And why is my cousin hanging out with the twins?" she demanded before her features shifted to shock. " _No_ way! No f-f-freaking way!" she exclaimed before gesturing exaggeratedly between us. "He's your mysterious, dreamboat, baby-daddy who inspired the coquette*ish line?"

I could almost feel Ranger's cocksure smirk in my periphery and I started sputtering a response, glad the dark was hiding my rising blush.

"Coquette*ish Babe?"

"What? No! _No_ , I have no idea where she's getting that from," I replied hotly before mumbling under my breath, "probably Lula and Connie, crazy gossips."

Sofia wasn't deterred by my response and turned her critical glare to Ranger. "And you!" she shrieked, punching Ranger's shoulder before dropping her voice back to an angry whisper at Ranger's expression and my wary glance at the attention we were garnering. "How could you just be gone this whole time? Pendejo (Spanish: Asshole)!"

"No, Sofia. No. It's not like that at all. We were friends- are, are friends and he didn't know until he came back in town for his sister's wedding," I explained at the disappointment in her voice.

"This is crazy talk. I have no words for this," she said, gesticulating wildly at Ranger and me before shaking her head violently as if to dislodge our entire conversation from her mind before pivoting quickly enough to snap Ranger in the shoulder with her glossy pony tail and heading back to the entrance to the party room just as Lester and Calista entered and our friends' chorus of congratulations cleared the awkwardness from the air.

"You were right, we definitely should have come separately," Ranger conceded angrily, as if it was still somehow my fault that someone outside of our immediate circles of trust knew he was the raspberries father. "We need to convince her not to tell anyone until we break the news to our families first," he said resignedly as he led me to join the crowd surrounding our newly engaged friends, his hand hovering at the small of my back.

* * *

 **Calista Cooper POV - 06 JUL 2014 (11 Months Ago)**

"And then we watched the fireworks over the water," I finished detailing my first, official date with Lester in a hushed tone so as to not wake the sleeping angels down the hall.

"That is so freaking romantic it makes my _face_ hurt," Victoria exclaimed with a blinding smile and a dreamy sigh, her chin resting in her palm. "Right Steph? Steph?" she asked, poking Stephanie in the shoulder.

"She's asleep, _again_?" I asked, not at all surprised. After a few bites of a Boston creme doughnut I brought her for breakfast, she laid her head down to rest on her arms and nodded off during my date recap. "Parenthood looks exhausting."

"Eh, I wouldn't know. My parents were more of the children should be seen and _not_ heard type," Victoria explained, wafting the aroma from her coffee towards Stephanie in an attempt to wake her gently. "We were strategic accessories that were brought out for special occasions and then quickly pawned off to the nanny."

"That kinda sucks, no offense. It's like they missed out on the whole parenting experience," I replied.

"I think that was the idea," Victoria murmured before nudging Stephanie with her shoulder. "Wakey, wakey Steph. You're missing out on guy talk!"

"Wh-what? I'm awake, I was just resting my face," Stephanie said, jerking up with a start, a little bit of chocolate frosting smudged on her chin. "Lester brought you a bouquet of office supplies because annoying Hillary at work keeps stealing yours, he drove you to the beach in Belmar, and then what?" she asked while rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Nope, you know the rules. You slept through the story so you miss out on the date details," Victoria joked, nudging me in the shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm just… I'm so damn tired all the time," Stephanie groused. She took a sip of her lukewarm, decaf coffee and grimaced. "I really do want to hear about your date with Lester. It's been a _long_ time coming."

"Agreed. I can't believe it took you guys months of hookups to finally admit there's something real between you," Victoria added.

"Pot meet kettle," Calista replied dryly, "how long have you and _Dreamy_ Duncan been dancing around each other now?"

"That is totally different. We aren't getting down and dirty on the regs!" Victoria retorted hotly.

"Shhh! You have to keep it down," Stephanie whispered frantically, "Theo is a very light sleeper," she explained just as the baby monitor interrupted our conversation with the sounds of a fussing infant.

Victoria mouthed sorry at Stephanie as she heaved herself out of her seat and shuffled down the hall towards the nursery. "I do _not_ want kids," Victoria announced. "The twins are adorable, but I'm glad we get to be the cool aunts and don't have to help with the crying and diaper stuff. Right?" she asked, looking at me for confirmation over her mocha latte.

"Mhmm," I mumbled, grabbing another rainbow sprinkle doughnut and shoving half of it into my mouth. Victoria knew my diversion tactics and just arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me until I responded. "I'm pretty sure Lester wants kids. Plural."

" _Pretty_ sure?"

"He said, and I quote, I think it would be great to have a bunch of little munchkins. And when I asked him how many that meant he said at least enough for a basketball team."

"Well shit," Victoria replied, letting that announcement sink in. "I can't believe you're still dating him after that little nugget."

"He's very, very talented and crazy, stupid hot," I explained, picturing his tanned, muscular physique.

"I guess having a basketball team is better than being a soccer mom, but I think you're still gonna need a minivan."

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 09 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

"I think I need to up my daily cardio," I grumbled as I laid back on my elbows and looked over at Stephanie. She'd invited me to join her and the twins for an afternoon at the park and I'd switched shifts with Lester to make it. We spent the afternoon chasing the twins around the playground and enjoying the watermelon that Ella insisted I bring when she found out where I was going.

Stephanie chortled and gave me a knowing look. "I'm a little scared to find out how you plan on increasing your daily workout." She laid on her side with her head near mine and her toned legs sticking out from beneath pastel colored shorts. "The raspberries are getting more and more active and harder to keep up with." She ran a hand over the twins who were napping between us, straightening their hair and clothes.

"Maybe I can just hang out with you guys to stay in shape," I suggested, hoping Stephanie would be receptive. While she'd been gradually getting less frosty with me over the past few weeks, we still weren't at the easy, flirty friendship we'd had before I left. After an uncomfortable strategy session with Lester and Tank regarding how to get Stephanie to open up to me with respect to more than just the twins, I realized what I needed was a clean slate. I was going to try to get to know Stephanie all over again. Apparently, that plan required guilting her into invites and occasional small talk. "Thanks for inviting me today."

"Of course," she replied awkwardly. "Well, if you want to hang with us the rest of the day you're going to have to brave a trip to Grandma Mazur's. We're going there for a little housewarming."

"She finally escaped your mother?"

"Yup," she smiled widely at me, "it was my mother's day gift to Grandma Mazur."

"And how'd your mother take that?"

"She was unhappy and vocal about it" Stephanie replied slowly, "and she _double_ banned me from pineapple upside-down cake. But joke's on her because Ella makes it for me whenever I ask."

"Speaking of, Ella wants you to call her about making the twins' birthday cake. I told her it was supposed to be any kind of animal and she just sort of huffed at me and told me to have you call her."

"Yeah, we have a lunch date to discuss the menu. She, thankfully, demanded to be included in the party planning," Stephanie admitted. "Y-you can come too, if you want."

"I'd like that," I replied sincerely, steeling myself to continue with Santos' suggestion of sharing that he lauded as foolproof. "I've already missed so much, so many firsts. I'd like to at least help plan their first birthday."

Stephanie grimaced like she did every now and then when confronted of the reality of my absence from our twins' lives. I know she felt like she'd done the right thing waiting to tell me, but despite that she also held some guilt for not finding a way to bring me into the twins' lives earlier. She fished around in her purse for a few moments and pulled out a cell phone with a plum case with w*ish scrolled on the back of it in gold. She tapped her fingers on the screen for a bit before handing it to me, cued up to a video. "I know a handful of the firsts in the twins lives are gone, but the first time they giggled, well, I managed to catch on video."

"Thanks Steph," I said softly. I reached out tentatively to squeeze her hand, grateful that she didn't recoil instinctively as she had done when I first came back into her life. I watched the video, smiling at Theo and Serafina who were reduced to tinkling giggles and wide gummy smiles by Stephanie tickling them. "Can I email this to myself?" I asked, doing so at her nod. "So," I said, tapping the back of her phone emblazoned with her brandname, "how did I not know that you were planning this?"

"Well, after I caught Dickie with Joyce and I had that impromptu bonfire on the front yard with all of his stuff, I decided to do something for me. I'd always been interested in design, but I didn't feel like it was something I could really pursue until the divorce."

* * *

 **Stephanie Plum POV - 04 APR 2009 (6 Years, 02 Months Ago)**

"What the fuck is that annoying beeping?" I grumbled to myself as I reached out blindly for the source of the noise and tried to untangle myself from my bedsheets. I knocked my phone onto the phone and managed turn off the ringing in the process. I stumbled out of bed and towards the bathroom of my new, single woman apartment. I managed to brush my teeth and wash my face before stuffing my feet into a pair of tennis shoes and ambling towards down the hallway of apartment doors.

The elevator opened to and older woman wearing a pink, frilly dressing gown and house slippers. "Going down?" she queried as I stepped on and nodded. "Good choice, first floor has home appliances and linens," she announced and hit the appropriate button.

I walked through the lobby area into the annoyingly bright day, squinting my way to my little red Miata. I drove absentmindedly to the nearest McDonalds and after receiving my drive through order of a super-sized french fries and coke, I parked in the lot to scarf down my very own hangover cure.

The salt, grease, and caffeine helped clear up the hazy bits of my memory from the previous night and I remembered the promise I'd made to Mary Lou, Calista, and Victoria before they'd dropped me off at my apartment. I promised that I'd take advantage of my new found freedom, find my inner Wonder Woman, and fly.

As much as I was loath to admit it, I let my mother and Burg expectations dictate too many of my decisions, including my (thankfully) short-lived marriage the golden boy lawyer with political aspirations that my mother adored. And as hurtful it was to find him cheating with the neighborhood bicycle, I was secretly a little relieved. I was relieved that I wasn't going to be forced to be a stay at home mom whose daily aspirations involved taking care of kids and a grown ass man (why couldn't he take care of himself?), stressing over the status of the pot roast, or worrying what the neighbors would think of any individuality I chose to pursue. In a way, I was free. Freed by Dickie 'can't keep it in his pants' Orr and Joyce 'occupation: serial divorcee' Barnhardt. Who would've thought I'd actually be grateful to them for anything?

Given that my attempt at shoving myself into the Burg mold failed so spectacularly after only a few months and at no real fault of my own, I was free to make my own way and stray from the norm. Besides, divorces were frowned upon in the Burg, regardless of the reason. It's the reason the Morelli women were considered saints for staying with their philandering, drunk, often abusive husbands. I'd already done the unthinkable and gotten a divorce and no amount of toeing the line would garner me admission to the good Burg girl club, so there was no point in settling and trying, I realized with a smile as I crammed another handful of french fries into my mouth.

So, that left me with only what I wanted… Oh the possibilities!

Of course, there'd only every really been one possibility. Between hours of binge watching Project Runway, the handful of fashion related business classes I took, and the fact that I opted for the decidedly dull position at E.E. Martin as a lingerie buyer rather than the other, more lucrative job offers I'd gotten, it was clear what I wanted, deep down in the recesses of my heart where I kept my dreams hidden safe from my mother and anyone's criticism. I wanted to be a fashion designer, lingerie, specifically. And given the settlement money the incensed divorce court judge had generously provided me, I had more than enough to cover the cost of tuition.

All I needed to do was apply to the school I'd discovered months ago in time to start during the summer session. Stephanie Plum, lingerie designer… sounds pretty good. Maybe not _quite_ as good as Stephanie Hemsworth, fashion designer and wife of Chris Hemsworth, but still.

* * *

 **Ranger Manoso POV - 09 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

Stephanie sat up and began packing up the detritus of our picnic. "So, will you be joining us at Grandma Mazur's?"

I scrubbed a hand over my face and sat up. I wanted to get to know Stephanie again and build trust, but despite my reputation as a cold-blooded mercenary, her grandmother was a terror. "Yeah, if it's okay with you. Besides, we'll get to practice breaking the news about me being the father and us co-parenting before dinner with your parents next Sunday."

"You sure? You seem a little hesitant there," Stephanie commented teasingly. "You're not scared of my little ol' grandma, are you?"

"Your grandmother is terrifying. I'm pretty sure she tries to X-ray vision her way through my cargo pants."

"Oh yeah. That's _exactly_ what she's doing. After she got over the shock of you being the twins father, she asked me if I'd draw a to scale picture of your package, as she likes to call it."

"It? Seriously, Babe?" I teased her. "Sorry. Seriously, Stephanie?" I corrected at her furrowed eyebrows.

"Whatever, you know what I mean," she huffed. "So, are you coming?" she asked as she settled our still sleeping twins into their stroller.

At my nod, she led me over to her SUV and after helping strap the twins into their carseats, I jogged over to my Cayenne to follow her to Rush Crossing, an active adult retirement community.

After being waved through at the security gate and following Stephanie drive through the winding roads and passed by an large community center and golf greens we stopped at the end of a cul-de-sac lined with modest but well maintained single story homes.

I reached Stephanie's car just as she started unbuckling Theo from his carseat. I carried the twins in their bleary, sleep addled states up the stone walkway following Stephanie who was carrying a gift bag with an explosion of colored tissue paper trying to escape from it.

Stephanie rang the doorbell and after a few minutes of waiting, she looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. "She knows we're coming," Stephanie offered with a frown and hit the doorbell again just as we heard a muffled yell followed by a crashing noise. "Ranger, did you hear that?" Stephanie looked at me with a worried expression.

"Yeah. Here, grab Theo," I said handing him to Stephanie where he rubbed his sleepy face against her shoulder and I shifted Serafina so I could pull my lock pick set out of my back pocket.

After shimming the door open I followed Stephanie into the apartment and towards the mumbled sounds of voices. We headed through the leopard print accented living room and down a hallway as the voices grew louder. I followed Stephanie into a room when she squealed and turned around, a hand covering Theo's eyes and her one squeezed shut. "Don't look and cover Serafina's eyes! They're too young for this! _We're_ too young for this!"

"What- oh shit," I muttered, covering Serafina's eyes despite the fact that she was entirely focused on the buttons of my henley.

"Oh, hello. I guess we lost track of the time," an older gentleman with white hair styled in a marine fade said a little too calmly given the situation. I averted my gaze as quickly as I could, unfortunately it wasn't quick enough. He and Edna seemed to be filming some sort of bondage themed sex tape. Luckily, we'd gotten here before the clothing had come off and Edna was in some sort of latex rubber bodysuit (that I will never be able to un-see) with a rhinestone collar and her friend was wearing boxers and furry, pink handcuffs.

"Is that the cuban sex god? Now that my baby granddaughter is no longer interested in you, would you like to join us?" Edna said to me giving me an alarmingly lingering perusal, "we were just getting to the good part."

"No thank you Ms. Mazur," I replied over Stephanie's shocked chastisement. I backed out of the room and pulled Stephanie with me by her elbow; we didn't stop until we'd reached the living room.

"Oh my god. What the. I have no words…" Stephanie finally said, looking dazed and unfocused.

"I'm not sure whether I should be terrified that this is part of what makes up our children's gene pool or be impressed that Edna's man friend had better luck convincing her to do something I never managed to talk you into," I chortled.

"This isn't funny!" Stephanie yelled, hitting me in the leg with the gift bag she was holding limply at her side, "and you _know_ this was Grandma Mazur's idea."

"You're right. You could learn a thing or two," I suggested with a smirk.

"If there were two of us, New Jersey would implode," she replied archly before slumping onto the leopard print ottoman.

"You don't think this has scarred the raspberries for life or anything, do you?" Stephanie asked, looking into Theo's eyes in an attempt to discern any psychological trauma.

"I don't think they had a chance to really register anything, but maybe we should leave, just incase?" But before Stephanie could respond, Edna and her friend joined us in the living room, both having changed quickly into something more appropriate for company.

"Sorry about that. We forgot you were stopping by today," Grandma Mazur announced, settling into the sofa with her friend.

"It's…" Stephanie began but just ended the sentence with a vigorous head shake as if to rattle the scene in the bedroom loose. "Grandma, Mr. Morrison, this is my friend Ranger Manoso. Ranger, you remember my Grandma Mazur and this is her friend Luke Morrison," she introduced us, clearly reverting to her Burg upbringing in this strange situation.

"It's nice to see you again Edna, and nice to meet you Mr. Morrison," I replied automatically, shaking Mr. Morrison's outstretched hand.

"Sorry about earlier. We just got carried away. I'm sure you know how it is," Mr. Morrison said as we all lapsed into a few awkward minutes of silence before we headed to the dining table to eat the lasagna Edna had prepared.

Thankfully, Stephanie was still able to maintain our previous division of labor and manned the small talk, giving Edna the gift she'd brought of bath salts, oils, and bombs and complementing how well decorated the apartment was and discussing the various amenities of the Rush Crossing community.

Unfortunately, when those subjects had been exhausted, Edna turned her sharp gaze onto me. "So, Ranger. You're finally back to be a part of your family? I want you to know I've always wanted you and Stephanie together, especially since I'm now spoken for," she added, shooting Mr. Morrison a wink, "but that doesn't mean I won't be keeping a close eye on you."

"I'm here to stay, Ms. Mazur," I assured her, trying not to focus the close eye comment.

"Good," she replied with a swift nod. "Now that we've got that out of the way, when are you planning on telling Helen?" she asked with a mischievous glint.

I can't believe I willingly signed up to spend two nights over the course of one week with Stephanie's crazy family. At least it was highly unlikely that we'd catch her parents getting frisky.

* * *

 **Unknown POV - 11 JUN 2015 (Present Day)**

Oh fun, a shopping center, I thought as I drove past the parking lot Ranger pulled into. I drove farther down the block and pulled into a hardware store parking lot across the street from Ranger's destination. What was with this guy? It's like Trenton sucked the fun right out of his life. He was spending his Thursday morning in some sort of suburbian nightmare. His options included a craft store, cupcake bakery, and stationary store.

I watched him lean against his sports car, black and shiny as always, arms crossed across his chest as he watched people walk around through his mirrored sunglasses. Always aware of his surroundings which made tailing him a nightmare. This was one of the few times he didn't loose me before getting wherever he was going. After a few minutes, a blond bombshell with a stroller stopped to talk to him. She was making a big show of flaunting her assets and touching his bicep but Mr. Stoic didn't bite and gave her the brush off. Guess she's just not as pretty as Tank.

She eventually got took the hint and waved as she walked away towards some baby center leaving Ranger to play sentry yet again. After another five to six minutes, during which he didn't move at all, the obnoxious fucker. A SUV parked next to him and he pushed off his car to open the door for the driver who was a stunning brunette, a little more girl-next-door than his reputed type which ran more exotic trollop. Either way, at least things were finally getting interesting.

Ranger gave the woman an entertainingly awkward kiss on the cheek before opening the backseat and pulling out a… a kid. Holy shit! Ranger's playing daddy to not one but two toddlers. This woman definitely didn't show up on any of the background checks I ran or in any of the personnel files I liberated.

Ranger Manoso, a mercenary spoken about only in terrified, hushed tones across several countries was playing _baby-daddy_ for some white bread, girl next door. This was better than I could've imagined; the indomitable Ranger Manoso allowed himself to be vulnerable in the worst way possible, I thought as I settled in to kill some time while they walked towards what looked like a Mommy and Me class. I ducked down a little when I noticed the chic pause and look around, focusing for a moment on the area where I was parked. She brushed off whatever it was that caused her pause and she walked with Ranger, each with a kid in their arms and all smiles.

Finally, after months I finally found my weak point. All I needed to do was exploit it and I'd be a very wealthy, powerful man.

And fucking Manoso would be six feet under, where he belonged.


End file.
